The parking brake in my first car (1990 Chevy Beretta) never locked. If given a tug, it would engage and lock the rear wheels, but once I let it go, it would disengage.

One especially snowy night on the way back from work I rolled up to an empty intersection, started a right turn and in a fit of brilliance, pulled up the parking brake, slid the backend out 90 degrees & stomped on gas to complete the turn. I executed it flawlessly & felt a tickle in my stomach I hadn’t felt since “Airwolf” got canceled.

I repeated this at every single opportunity on my drive home, hitting the turn a little faster, pulling the brake a little later & stomping the gas a little harder at each intersection until finally I hit a turn WAY too fast & pulled the brake WAY too late. My drivers side rear wheel smashed into the far curb and sent my hubcap shooting into some guys lawn.

After collecting myself (& my hubcap) I sheepishly drove home and thought of a plausible excuse I could provide my dad as for why my now detached hub cap contained a giant gash.

I would occasionally try this again, but only in the confines or a parking lot or at a “reasonable” speed.