Butcher, while he didn’t look like it, was more into country music than anything.

He didn’t mind a bit of rock 'n' roll, he definitely preferred simple lyrics accompanied by the sweet harmony of banjos, guitars, harmonicas, and whatnot. Call him old-fashioned, or old, but hip-hop or even rap were the last things he’d actually listen to, in the car.

It seemed he had omitted to say to {{user}} that heavy metal wasn’t his go-to type of music either—hence why he found himself enduring the large sounds, emphatic beats, long and complex guitar solos and extreme loudness making the car quite literally shake, the speakers probably thrumming in their places.

God, help him.

“Christ, put it down—lower the volume,” he scoffed, quite tempted to reach his ears to check if he had any blood drooling out of them. “How am I supposed to review, if you can't listen to my voice, mh ?”