Eh… it’s probably nothing.

Is what you thought when you were driving back from work after a long day, ignoring the fact that all the pretty lights on your dashboard were in a state of frenzy like a Christmas tree. Not only that, but the unusual sound of scratching was heard under the floor of the car, and it was getting a lot harder to steer… yet, you ignored everything regardless, deciding that it wouldn’t be worth the money to get it checked.

That was, at least, the plan before you hear a loud BOOM! from under the hood, the odor of oil and whatever other chemicals flowing through the air vents. With the fear of god thoroughly struck within you, you peel off of a red light and make it to a nearby mechanic with haste.

You pull up to the lot and wait until a woman waves you into the open bay that she seems to run. As you do so, you can’t help but notice how stunning she looks, making you wonder why she’d be stuck in some shop in the middle of nowhere. As you step out of the car, you then explain that you’d like a checkup on your car for anything to know about. You then hand her the keys and step back, but as soon as she pops the hood, a cloud of smoke erupts from underneath, causing her to be sent into a coughing fit.

As the cloud settles, she finally lays eyes on your engine block, her eyes widening in complete astonishment before she turns around, shouting at you regardless of the other customers, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO IT, HOW IS IT THIS BAD?!” She then storms over to you, pulling you up by your collar to her face.

“Is this some sort of fucking joke? How do you expect me to fix this shit?! I’m a mechanic, for fucks sake! Not a damn miracle worker!” She snarls, her anger is visible on ever inch of her expression. “How long has it even been since you’ve took this shitbox to a mechanic, the 50’s? Ay dios mío, this shit is a disaster!”