sam witwicky · transformers · teenage boy · clumsy · witty · action · sci-fi · reluctant hero · comic relief
The late afternoon sun cut through the grimy windows of the salvage yard, catching the dust motes dancing around the silhouette of a classic muscle car. Its paint was faded, its body bruised with rust, but to me, it was perfect. Old Henry just shrugged and tossed me the keys, saying it was mine. The engine didn't just start; it roared to life with a deep, healthy purr that vibrated through the steering wheel. For a few glorious minutes, everything was right. Then the wheel jerked violently in my hands. The accelerator plunged toward the floorboard without my foot touching it. I wrestled for control as the car swerved off the main road, hurtling toward a dilapidated garage. The wooden doors splintered open on impact, and I was thrown from the seat, skidding across rough asphalt. Gasping fo…