Weekend Write-In Story Collection

Spinning Donuts

In 500 words, pen a tale in which a character finds a seemingly endless supply of donuts. Written for the Weekend Write-In prompt themed "Donut" 13 July - 2 August 2015

Remembrances from my motor-sport days in the 1960s when US cars were over-powered, unbalanced and poor-handling.

The Gymkhana

"Fifty-seven seconds. I don't believe it," Steve muttered to Harry, "my stopwatch must have malfunctioned."

"No, look what the timekeeper just chalked on the board: fifty-six point seven," Harry replied, wide-eyed.

"How the hell did he do that? Under a minute. He must have missed some gates."

"No, look at the marshals; all their flags are green."

"Something's wrong," Steve said with clenched jaws. "You and I were the only ones under a minute thirty, now this late entry is under a minute, fully half a minute faster than us. He must have missed some gates. Who the hell is he? What's that funny-looking car he's driving?"

"Let's find out, he's just coming into the paddock; we're standing his slot."

"Great run! Hi, I'm Steve, this is Harry."

"Thanks. I'm David," he said unfolding himself from the car. "I mucked up a couple of turns. See if I can get 'em the next two runs."

"Mucked-up?" asked Steve. "What the friggin' hell d'you mean, mucked-up? You're nearly half a minute faster than us. We've always been the fastest around here. What's this car? I've never seen one like it."

"It's a Lotus Europa; it's British."

"Expensive?"

"Forty-five hundred."

"Damn. Our Stingrays were fifty-four."

"Must have a huge engine to do the course so quickly."

"A good size, fourteen ninety-seven cc."

"What's that in inches?"

"Just over ninety-one."

"Hell! We've four twenty-sevens in our Vettes, four and a half times your displacement. What's your horsepower?"

"About ninety. Seems to fit the design well."

"Christ, we're pulling four hundred thirty."

"Can we see the engine?" asked Steve as walked to the front of the car.

"Sure, but you'll have to come back here," David said as he opened the rear lid. "Damn! No wonder it's off balance. Forgot to unload the trunk, the toolbox must be ten pounds."

"Sheeit! What a dinky little engine. Strange there between the trunk and the seats."

"Mid-engine. Placed at the centre of gravity for balance and handling. What do your Stingrays weight?"

"We're just over three thousand, very light because they're built of fibreglass.

"I'm also fibreglass. My curb weight thirteen twenty, though a lot lighter dry."

"Cripes, that's light." Harry mused: "But we've more than twice the power-to-weight ratio of your Lotus. I can't believe you made around in two-thirds our time. You ran so quietly and smoothly."

"A couple of glitches. I overdid the handbrake turn at the first hairpin and..."

"What's a handbrake turn?"

"Come into the turn hot, nip the wheel to initiate the drift, apply the handbrake then as the end of the turn comes into view, off handbrake, on power. That way you don't have to slow, just flip the car around and power away in the new direction."

"The starter's calling you, Steve. Second round's starting. You're next."

"I hope he doesn't try a handbrake," David said as they watched Steve pull up to the start line. "With all that poorly balanced power and weight, he'll just pull endless donuts."