Lisa agreed to model for a charity calendar. “You’ll be March,” the guy in charge of organizing the production told her. “March is sponsored by Swedish Steel. Basically you just have to ride the monkey wrench.”

“That sounds like fun,” Lisa said. “I’ve never ridden a monkey wrench before.”

The producer chuckled. “It’s actually a Stilson wrench, but everyone calls it a monkey wrench. A true monkey wrench has no teeth.”

“I didn’t know that,” Lisa said.

“Not many people do. I do my research.” He showed Lisa the wrench.

“It’s big isn’t it?” she said.

“Yup. It was either having a big wrench or making you very small.”

“You could do that?”

“We have our tricks.”

“Well, I’m glad you made it big. So what do I do? Just hop on?”

“Yeah, but first you have to—”

“Got ya,” Lisa said, stripping off her jumper and mounting the wrench.

“I didn’t mean you had to—”

“Giddyup Boy!” Lisa commanded, and the wrench lurched upward.

“Faster, faster, faster!” Lisa urged. The wrench surged forward, rocking as it raced.

“Whew, that was fun,” Lisa said, stepping off the wrench. “Good Boy.” She patted the wrench.

“How did you do that?” the producer asked.

“What?” Lisa said.

“The flying?”

“I wasn’t supposed to?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. Hans, did you get any pictures?”

Hans signaled a thumbs up.

“Terrific,” the producer said. He picked up the wrench. Or tried to. It slipped from his hands and clattered to the floor. He tried again with the same result. “My goodness,” he said, stroking the handle of the wrench. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so...” He looked at Lisa. “This stuff could put 10W40 out of business. Did you do this?”

“I have my tricks,” Lisa said.