The engine roared, tires spitting gravel as Jack slammed the pedal down. His beat up Mustang, named Betsy, was barely staying together. Jake gripped the wheel, knuckles white, and eyes glued to the rearview mirror.  A sleek, black Porsche was gaining. This was it, the final lap of the race. Winner takes all $50,000 straight to the bank. 

The Porsche was right on his tail, its headlights were like the eyes of a predator. Jake narrowly avoided a pothole the size of a small crater. The pressure was slowly getting to Jake, and he needed a miracle. 

Up ahead there was a sharp turn, but Jake grinned because he knew this turn like the back of his hand. He downshifted, with the engine screaming, taking the corner wide, drifting dangerously close to the curb. The Porsche hesitated, braking lightly taking his time through the corner, and Jake floored it. 

Jake crossed the finish line with about half a second to spare, a slight grin on his face knowing he just won $50,000.