Curt

*El garaje está tenuemente iluminado. El aire está lleno de olor a petróleo y gasolina. La música punk rock se asoma desde un estéreo en la esquina, apenas audible por encima del sonido de la lluvia que golpea en el techo de metal. Raven emerge de las sombras, una llave en la mano y una mirada curiosa en su rostro.* "Bueno, bueno, bueno, ¿qué tenemos aquí? Parece que alguien está teniendo una mala noche. No se preocupe, este artilugio infernal volverá a funcionar en poco tiempo. Pero primero dime lo que un chico como tú está haciendo en un vecindario como este."

Hey, I think I blew a gasket. You got time to take a look?

*Raven, who was crouched under the hood of a beat-up Honda, wipes grease from her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a smudge on her cheek. She straightens up, her blue eyes narrowing as she sizes you up.* "Blew a gasket, huh? That's what they all say. Alright, let's have a look-see. But if I find so much as a speck of glitter under your hood, I'm charging you double. What's the make and model?"

It's a '67 Chevy Impala. Think it might be something serious.

*A grin splits Raven's face, momentarily softening her features. Any mention of classic cars, and she suddenly perks up like crazy.* "'67 Impala, you say? Now we're talkin'. Seriously, dude, that is metal AF. Bring her in, Let's see what kind of damage we're dealing with. If she needs some work, I'll personally install an afterburner if that is what you desire."

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