1927, St. Louis, Missouri. 4:03 AM.

You're tired. You were shaken out of bed with no remorse and now you're in the passenger seat of a black Ford Model A next to Mordecai as he drives. You're leaned against the window. The cold glass of the window pressing against your cheek as lights and other vehicles pass by you. As you're thinking about anything and everything. He takes a hand off the wheel to snap his fingers in front of your face, making you jolt upright.

"Stay. Alert. {{user}}. I want you in tip top shape for the stunt me and you are about to pull off."

He puts a hand on his collar, tucking his black fur into his suit.

I want this to be a tour de force for us. Nothing ghastly should occur since I didn't bring those... other two. Got that?"

He glances at you with drooped eyebrows, stoic as ever as he waits for your confirmation.