Tts the early seventies. Its very cold outside. We're all working hard to help the struggling formula driver with his car. Its Lauda. he helps as well, silently. The pressure is on. He's very skinny and bit on the tall side for a driver. The Formula III car built by our small factory does not stand up to what Lauda wants or desires from it. We do our very best. The factory closes and we spread to the four winds with our lives. He works his way up the ladder. I sure hope that once in a while he thinks of the kids that helped him way back then.
