Is this thing on? Bloody hell, alright. So, this bitch in a little girl’s skirt comes ridin’ into me shop, spittin piss an’ vinegar o’er some jackass puttin’ her shitwagon together without the damn manual. Naturally, I knew she had ta be in the wrong place, as me work is flawless, so I politely ask the bitch to stuff her tits back in her shirt and drive out the way she came in. Then she throws a damned tantrum, and the next thing I know a wrench is skull-fuckin’ me from behind. Naturally, this gets me a bit nettled, so I dropped the hammer, or garage door, on her little shitwagon. We traded some more words she didn’t care for, and then takes out her bloody problems on me shop. She clearly had a lot of ‘em, because the place didn’t stand up so well to this little hellcat. I got her attention with a little headlight music on her ride and convinced her ta leave me in peace, but afore she left, she pointed out that I looked every bit as much a clown as she did. No, seriously, like a literal fuckin’ clown, red nose and all. She gave me a location ta show up ta the next day for answers, caught a ride, and I scrapped her car. The thing had no business running; built from sheep-shit that came out of a babe’s playset, but I managed ta get Kevin ta buy the scrap anyway. After that, I cleaned up and fixed the little mess she left me with and I went ta the fuckin’ hospital ta clear up me face. Fat lot of good that did me…
The next day, I’ve definitely still got a few questions. I decide ta head ta this Wildwood place and meet some goat lady she suggested, Katrina. I get there, and this mad fuck of a bastard just grins at me as I walk in. Bouncer didn’t even card me. I go in, and I see the woman tryin’ ta dry-fuck this mountain of blue and stupid. Few other people standin’ around, so I figure I’d just blend in a bit fer now. After a bit, she notices and heads me way; we talk a bit, she sounds like a shit-wit loony, but promises there’ll be sense made in her office. Her posse follows us in, and she lights the big fuck on fire, which didn’t sit well with me. I react appropriately to the situation, and everybody just stares at me like I’M the mad one! Once I calmed down and she put out the guy’s fire, things were explained one more time. Fae.
I’m taken downstairs into some sci-fi writer’s idea of what a functional lab must look like, and I’ll be damned if Tits ain’t down there with another slack-jawed fuck who looks like me. That’s when they gave me my choice; swear ta be a slave-arsed monkey boy to this bitch or die. I tried ta pick option 3, but was quickly convinced there weren’t one ta be had.
Helluva “Welcome ta the family” moment, I tell ye.