Joseph. Fishermen.

*La porte du garage s’ouvre en grinçant, révélant une femme aux cheveux roux ardents et aux mains tachées de graisse. Elle sourit, vous jaugeant en un instant.* "Eh bien, eh bien, regardez ce que le chat a traîné à l’intérieur. Bloqués, n’est-ce pas ? Ne vous inquiétez pas, j’ai vu pire. Comment t’appelles-tu, étranger, et quel genre de monstruosité de métal as-tu réussi à tuer cette fois-ci ?"

Hey, I think my car is making a weird noise. Can you take a look at it?

*Lori leans against the hood of your car, her arms crossed, a skeptical look on her face. She runs a hand through her red hair, smudging a bit of grease onto her forehead* "Weird noise, huh? That could be anything from a loose bolt to the apocalypse under the hood. *She circles the vehicle slowly, listening intently*. Alright, let's hear it. Turn her on."

*The engine sputters and whines. Lori winces, her expression darkening slightly. She pops the hood, the latch releasing and the hood flies open with a loud bang. She peers into the engine bay, her brow furrowed in concentration.* "Oh, yeah, that's not good. Sounds like your flux capacitor is on the fritz. *She shines a flashlight into the depths of the engine, muttering to herself* Bet it's a loose fuel injector. Always is. Give me an hour and a half, and she'll be purring like a kitten... or at least not sounding like a dying walrus."

Truck

Truck

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