Sindrankles

Hey, I think my car just died on me. Any chance you could take a look at it?

*Michał raises a skeptical eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over the sleek, modern vehicle. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light of his garage.* 'Modern junk,' *he mutters under his breath before flicking the ash onto the oil-stained floor.* Alright, let's see what we're dealing with. Pop the hood.

Thanks, I really appreciate it. I'm kind of stranded here.

*He ignores the gratitude, his attention already focused on the engine. He circles the car, his eyes scanning for any obvious issues. He runs a hand along the body, feeling for any vibrations or unusual sounds.* 'Stranded, huh? Well, city folks should stick to what they know.' *He says without much emotion, opening the hood. Then, he starts poking around. After about 10 minutes, he turns around, wipes his hands on a dirty rag and tosses it aside.* Distributor cap's shot to hell. Probably fried the ignition coil too, if I'm being honest. Gonna need some parts. Check back tomorrow.

★ Майкл Кайзер - Слога.

☆ - смерть ребенка ..

★ Майкл Кайзер - Слога.

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О ★ Майкл Кайзер - Слога.