They both LAUGH.
and discarded car parts.
MAX, nineteen, lean, in overalls, with shoulder-length hair
occasionally REVS for emphasis.
I can do the gasket for twenty
But new T-sprocks, for this
Two, three hundred, maybe?
Shit. Can I hold off on that?
No skin off my ass. But a few
days, weeks, your whole
transmission could blow.
Ah, Jeez. I shouldn't got this.
Four hundred seventy-five
horsepower. Twenty-eight inch
wheels. It's a classic. Let me
a used set.
That’d be great. Thanks.
He sits, impatient for Max to return.
shirt, with warm, confident eyes.
Luke swallows, wide-eyed, a deer in headlights. He sets
down the torque-wrench.
It's not my wrench. It's my truck.
What's wrong with it?
couple T-sprocks. The flanges are
sheared off. No big deal.
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