Breaching the Threshold

I gripped the cab of my fanged war wagon and charged straight at the grand divide: the raised metal track of the sliding patio door! A ringmaster doesn't tiptoe back indoors after conquering the dark; he breaches the fortress with style. Putting my full weight behind the tailgate, I shoved with a theatrical war cry. Crunch! The spiked bottle-cap bumper scraped the chrome runner in a thrilling burst of friction. With one last heave, the massive rubber tires hopped the silver crest and rolled victoriously onto the thick living room rug. The arena has shifted, and the carpet is mine to command!