I would make it roar! The dead BMW sitting idle in my uncle Rob’s garage peaked my interest and presented the perfect challenge. Replacing the engine was the only option. As fastidious as a surgeon, I laid out my plan and my tools. Removing the engine was painstaking and tedious, however putting in the new one demanded exacting, precise choices. Like the Lego sets of my childhood, I knew each piece was important, each step imperative. After spending weeks toiling with wrenches, ratchets, and immeasurable energy drinks it still would not start. The incessant grind of the engine made my heart sink, for I had spent countless hours tinkering with its parts. As I fought back the sinking feeling of failure, I realized there was one last chance to make the motor turn. Throttle Body Fluid had always been my last resort. With my heart racing, and palms sweaty I sprayed the potion into the intake manifold and hoped for the best. One final turn of the key, and the engine thundered to life.

My fervor for mechanics was sparked when I received my first set of Legos. 5,000 pieces arranged by shape and color took over my family table and consumed my time until the finished product emerged. Years later when I watched my cousin Rob, a master mechanic, labor over a BMW M5 engine, I knew this was something I could do. Watching as he cautiously removed manifolds, mass air meters, complicated break lines, and endless other parts, I stored the knowledge until the occasion