All right, here's an action scene, just for practisimo. This is a true story, by the way. This actually happened to me here in Dallas.
Rain pounded the windshield as the car swerved left and right. Smooth tires neither screeched nor gripped the pavement, but glided over the road on a sheet of summer rain slick as black ice. He turned the wheel gently into each swing of the truck's rear, resisting the urge to put his full weight on the brakes, and touched a soft toe to the accelerator, hoping he could stabilize before he ran off the road.
Cars blew by him on either side, dodging him, and then a tread found pavement and launched him forward across three lanes of traffic, into the ditch, the deep mud twisting the wheel back to the right and almost yanking it out of his hands. No concrete median rose up to meet him, but he was approaching an overpass and the huge concrete pillars rushed at him. He thought about trying to swerve away from them, between them, back onto the road, but an instant calculation said he was fucked, stay on this path, at least die right-side up and head-on.
He flew under the bridge sideways, almost glancing the pillars that now were to his right when they should have been well to his left, and then he bumped onto the pavement and found himself facing oncoming traffic and a long row of cars throwing up rain-mist and swerving left and right to avoid him.
Still resisting the urge to slam on the brakes and throw himself into a tumbling mess of American steel, he cranked the steering wheel to the left, straightening, slowing, shaving off momentum until he felt all four tires grip the pavement, and then he turned right, hard, avoiding an oncoming truck, and came to a stop on the inside shoulder of the opposite traffic lane, pulling into the median and out of the way of traffic.