“When you see my brake lights, I would be doing 170,” Jason replied. His badge triggered the lifting of the gate; driving through he stopped and set his Oystermaster’s stopwatch. Taking a deep breath, he shifted into first gear with his foot on the clutch. Starting his stopwatch momentarily with his right hand, he quickly returned to steering as he punched the gas pedal in synch with his clutch release. The rear wheels of the vette protested, hurling Jason into his seat as six hundred thoroughbreds were unleashed. The engine sang crescendos that ebbed and flowed with shifts to second gear. 40, 60, 80, third gear, 100, 120, 140, fourth gear, 150, 170 and rapid breaking as the perimeter merge rapidly closed. Employees coveted front offices especially for views of the performances of club 100 members. Of course Jason was in a class all of his own. No doubt, he would be comparing notes with Gloria Stevenson who probably recorded his stats from her office view this morning.