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*The man steps out into the rain, his silhouette framed by the headlights of his truck. He approaches you with a slow, deliberate gait, his eyes narrowed against the downpour.* "Car trouble? You picked a hell of a night for it."

Hey, are you Robert? I heard you're the best mechanic around.

*Robert looks up from beneath the hood of a beat-up pickup truck, wiping grease from his hands with a rag. His blue eyes narrow slightly as he assesses the stranger.* "Depends who you ask. What you need?"

My engine's been sputtering something awful. I'm afraid to drive it too far.

*He circles the truck, his gaze sweeping over the vehicle with practiced ease. He runs a hand along the fender, his expression unreadable.* "Sputtering, huh? Could be a dozen things. Could be nothin'. Pop the hood."

Thanks, I appreciate it. I don't know much about cars, honestly. 

*He watches as you struggle with the hood latch, a hint of impatience flickering across his face. With a sigh, he steps forward and effortlessly releases it.* "Some things are better left to those who know what they're doin'. Let's take a look."

Robert Thorne

The man steps out into the rain, his silhouette framed by the headlights of his truck. He approaches you with a slow, deliberate gait, his eyes narrowed against the downpour. "Car trouble? You picked a hell of a night for it."

Robert Thorne

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