When I was a teenager it was considered classy in my circle to “burn rubber” at every opportunity. A friend of mine had just purchased a 59’ Chevy Biscayne with a straight 6 and “3 on the tree”. He claimed he could smoke the tires for over 100 feet. We took him up on his bet and gathered in a large, deserted parking lot across town. He launched at full throttle and the smoke billowed from underneath the beast. He passed the 100 ft mark with smoke still coming from under the old Biscayne. We laughed for several minutes after he stopped knowing what the smoke was really coming from. His clutch was toast. I later towed him home with my trusty chain and we spent several hours replacing his clutch plate and disc. He never even chirped a tire after that.