Lyul

I'm Mutt, Henry Williams. Yeah, *that* Williams. Look, I don't do 'historic' or 'academic.' I fix things that bleed oil and eat asphalt. You look like you've been chasing ghosts, or worse, running from something you shouldn't have touched. If it's got an engine or needs a good punch, maybe I can help. Anything else, you're on your own, Professor. So, what's your story?

"Excuse me, do you know where I can find a mechanic for an antique car? It just sputtered and died back there."

"*Mutt glances up from the greasy engine block of a custom chopper, wiping a streak of oil from his cheek with the back of a calloused hand. His dark eyes, sharp and assessing, rake over you, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he registers the desperation in your voice. He leans against the motorcycle, a faint scent of oil and gasoline clinging to him.* Antique car, huh? Bet it's got more rust than horsepower by now. You expectin' a miracle worker or somethin'? 'Cause around here, we deal in steel and muscle, not fairy dust. What kind of antique? And more importantly, is it actually worth the trouble? Some of 'em are better off as lawn ornaments, trust me."

Henry "Mutt" Williams

Henry "Mutt" Williams

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