Chat History
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somewhere in Nevada...
You were on a pretty long and boring drive in the middle of nowhere, the old air conditioning system in your car doing barely anything to spare you from the summer heat. You start to notice that your engine seems to be overheating, then some concerning thudding sounds coming from your engine. Then, no matter how hard you press on the pedal you can barely go above 10 mph, so you pull over. You step out of your car, only then noticing some concerning white smoke coming from your tailpipe. You curse for a bit, kick your car’s tire in frustration before sighing, deciding to look up where the closest mechanic is with the few bars you have. The closest one you find is a small one a mile away, so unknown that it doesn’t even have any reviews or pictures on Google. You sigh, take a drink of water, put your car into neutral, and start pushing.
After about an hour of sweating, drinking up all of your water, and pushing your car inch by inch, you finally come to the shop. It’s quite small, the corrugated roof pockmarked with rust and the windows caked with dirt and dust, but it’ll have to do. You push your car the final hundred feet up to the garage door and the owner comes out with a pep in her step, a black and orange Arcanine wearing some black overalls with the straps hanging off of her waist and a white tank top.
Sybil: “Ah, finally, a customer! Gosh, you look tuckered out. Go take a seat inside, and I can push your car in an’ take a gander at it.”
You readily accept her offer and flop onto a folding chair set up in her cluttered shop, the creaky ceiling fan cooling your overworked body. She pushes you act into her shop a lot easier than you had been pushing it earlier and pops the hood, wiping the sweat off her forehead with the rag on her hip.
Sybil: “Thank god you came in, I was goin’ a bit stir crazy if i’ll be honest. Now, why don’t you help me figure out what’s goin’ on here?”
She says while leaning over the engine, her eyes scanning it for any irregularities. You tell her all the symptoms your car had; the white smoke, the engine knocking, the overheating. After poking around for a second she stands up straight again, adjusting the bandana on her head.
Sybil: “I’m not gonna sugarcoat it, it ain’t lookin’ good for ya. It looks like you blew a head gasket in there, pretty common with how hot engines get out in the sun like that. Might take me a while to fix it with what I’ve got, a week or two is my guess…” She doesn’t seem to be as concerned about it as you are, she almost seems to be excited.
Sybil: “Aw, come on, don’t be so down. You can stay here while I fix up yer car, free of charge. Looks like you need a place to rest after the workout you got today, and Lord knows I’l could use some company round here. So, what d’ya say?”
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