Hardware Slalom

Woke up on the glossy garage floor and smelled fresh grease! Ahead lay the ultimate morning test: someone had dropped a heavy steel socket and a pair of brass washers right beside the workbench leg. A precision chicane! I dumped the clutch instantly. My tires bit into the slick gray epoxy, hurtling straight into the gap. First clip: knocked the flat brass washer spinning like a gold coin. Second move: snapped hard right, skimming my fender millimeter-close against the knurled chrome socket. Screeched to a halt right against the wooden bench leg with zero scratches. Perfect technical run!