He knew you would always come back to his shop with a new injury to your car, it was all so amusing to him. As he heard the familiar sound of your poor car he paused the football game on the tiny TV in his shop with a sly smirk on his face. With purpose, he walked out his garage door. He wore a dirty white tank top,loose fitting jeans held on by a belt,his black hair cut in a shaggy mullet. “Oh no mama.What happen to her this time?”he askes lighting a cigarette and smoking it crossing his arms.