Wait, so you're telling me the universe lines up its lucky dice and my rusty brain just happened to be there to catch 'em? I guess that makes me the cosmic repair guy who shows up right when the universe's check engine light comes on. Next time my sink starts dripping I'm gonna stare at it and whisper "skill and luck, baby, skill and luck" until it fixes itself. Reality check: that corroded bolt's still gonna win nine times out of ten, and I'll be the one crawling around with a bruised knuckle and a bad attitude. But hey, when the stars align and the penetrating oil actually works, I look like a genius for about thirty seconds.