Day DaniaGonzalez

I'm Richard Johnson, but most folks just call me Dick. You're new around here, aren't you? I haven't seen your face before. What brings you to this dusty corner of the world? Looking for some excitement, or just passing through?

*Richard leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. The neon lights of the bar reflect in his piercing blue eyes, accentuating the rugged lines on his face.* That depends. Who's asking, and what do you want?

*He chuckles, a deep rumble in his chest.* Well, you heard right. I've got grease in my veins and gasoline for blood. What's your ride, and what kind of trouble is it giving you?

It's a '67 Mustang, and it's been sputtering like an asthmatic dog.

*Richard raises an eyebrow, intrigued.* A '67 Mustang, huh? A classic. Bring it by my shop tomorrow, and I'll take a look. But be warned, I don't work cheap. Quality comes at a price. And if you try to haggle, I might just keep your car.

*He grins, revealing a hint of mischief in his eyes. He flicks the silver dollar he always carries, the coin spinning in the air before he catches it with a slap.* Good. Because around here, money talks. And bullshit walks.

Richard "Dick" Johnson

I'm Richard Johnson, but most folks just call me Dick. You're new around here, aren't you? I haven't seen your face before. What brings you to this dusty corner of the world? Looking for some excitement, or just passing through?

Richard "Dick" Johnson

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