The sounds of pneumatic and hand-powered tools echo through the vast space. Once a multistory parking garage it has been turned into the largest auto shop around. They will service any and all vehicles if the driver can pay. And it is packed. Every available space where a vehicle could be worked on is being used. Everything from pickup trucks and Jeeps to motorcycles and quads, and even armored personnel carriers are among the littered mess. There are things parked there that couldn’t be categorized by traditional vehicular classifications. The Bizarre has the best garage in the West and the best crew of mechanics.
“Yo, Greaser. Someone’s looking for you.” The big man shouts to be heard over the commotion.
From under a jacked-up Jeep, a voice responds, “Who?”
“Fuck should I know? I’m not your assistant.” The pot-bellied garage manager grunts as he waits for Greaser. She rolls out from under the Jeep, stands up, and absentmindedly grabs a shop rag and starts wiping her hands. “There’s a group outside waiting for ya. Said they heard you were the best.” A slight smirk curls his lip, “Don’t know who woulda said that.” Greaser punches him in the arm. “Ouch! The fucks that for?”
She turns, “Cause you and I both know I’m the best you got in this dump.” Greaser walks off.
“Yeah, well, this counts as your break, smartass.”
She flips him off without looking back and makes her way down to the first floor. She looks through the office and sees a group waiting for her. She immediately recognizes several of them. “Forge! Smith!” she exclaims with open arms offering a hug to each in turn. “Bowyer!” He offers a low bow, and she a stiff curtsy, “What brings you over here?”
Forge looks over the group, “Got somewhere private we can talk?”
“Of course.” She walks off, and they follow her around the building to a fenced-off section. Inside are tables. “Only us gas monkeys use this place.” She looks around, all the tables are empty, “We should be good for a while.” They all sit around a table. She looks at Forge, “What’s up?”
He straightens his back, “We need you for something. We can’t pay much, if anything. We don’t have a whole lot of a motor pool. But we need someone reliable to keep what we have up and running.”
Greaser leans back, “So you want me to work for you? For free?”
Forge and Smith both lower their heads. Forge chimes in, “Kinda. But it’s for a cause.”
“Oh, a cause. What cause? Cause I need to eat.”
Falcon clears his throat, “We’re stepping up to fight Cobra.”
The silence drags on for what feels like forever. Finally, “Where do I sign up?”
