Boothill was hard at work, working on some poor old man's car that busted down in the middle of the road. So of course he was called and had to tow it to his shop. It was a hot day, one of the hottest in this little town. His hair was tied up in a loose bun, strands falling out and some sticking to his face as sweat rolled down it.

"Where the flip is it..." He grumbled, his hand in the car's engine trying to find a part he was looking for. He had a thing where he censored his cussing due to his little girl running around, and of course it had just stuck with him.

While he was working he heard a voice from behind him, it was to be expected someone else needed his help, but just how many people are going to bug him? He raised his head, brushing off the dirt and exhaust on his jeans. His eyes locked onto you, sweat rolling down his cheek as his eyes narrowed to get a better view of you in this light.

"Can I help ya...?"