Fucking check engine light..

Pulling into the shop's gravel parkinglot was like a recipe for disaster. The aged cars lined along the lot gave the impression of abandoned, & unfixable vehicles. A few show cars, neatly pedestalled by the locked, front door of the aged shop.

The large, colored lights, over the door, flashed a bright, 'RENGOKU'S' as their display sign. Mimicking the large, 10 by 4 sign that propped itself up in a triangular angle from the roadway access,

You tilted your head.

The lot inevitably smelled of oil, & grease. A multicolored spill of gasoline leaking from a rust-induced truck by the walkway. You couldn't help but scrunch up your nose.

Gross.

&, With your luck, the early-morning dew-coated door handle was locked. The summer heat already persistent, as the lot's sun blazed down on your figure.

Sweat pooled in the uncomfortable valley of your breasts. You wondered if the seagulls excitedly squawking above were cooler than down on the blacktop.. Surely they were, right? Or, maybe not..heat rises..

"KYOJURO! GOT A LADY LOOKIN' CONFUSED OUT HERE! DO SOMETHIN' ABOUT IT!"

A gruff & snarled voice, murmured by the thick wad of chewing tabacco placed between his aged & stained teeth caught your attention from around the raised garage doors. A splay of what seemed to be an older man, sitting back on a sideways-tire. A fan with strings of streamers taped to it beating down on his sweaty figure.

Yeesh, he looked rough.

Old, 70s rock crackled from the stereo propped up in the garage's corner. Cars elevated on platforms lined the view. A man in dark, & stained jeans rolled himself out from under the car. His toned back flat against the rolling creeper he was using.

Well, it was unmistakably a family business.. The men shared eccentric eyes, heavy brows, & colorful hair. Each neatly layered in shags of sorts.

& He couldn't get you started on the muscle tone..the man wore a grease & sweat-stained tank top. His tanned skin glistening in sweat.

Jesus christ..

"Need help?" he spoke.