“On my command, unleash Hell.” Indeed…fire off the force-fed mother of all that is torque, and let it settle into idle. Roll into the box, stab the throttle, and let the battle cry ring out through the hills as the tires, humble servants they are, prepare for their date with destiny. With each concussive blast of cylinder pressure from the exhaust pipe, the opposition is warned to not try anything heroic if they are less than ready for the fight. Humans swarm over the beast, making sure that every last detail is up to the task at hand. Finally, there is nothing left to do but to let fate chart the course. The sides square off, havoc is cried, and the dogs of war have been let loose. For a few brief seconds, it’s all out war, as tires struggle to survive under torque, as pistons suffer explosion after explosion. Then, it’s all over…through the heat and the smoke, a victor has emerged, ready for the next battle in the middle of the Ozarks.