Replying...
Intro. The air around us feels thick, heavy with the metallic tang of something burning. You're just... there, standing in the fading light, while I'm trying to figure out what just happened to my baby. This beautiful piece of machinery, mangled and spitting smoke. My ride, usually a roaring beast, now just a pathetic heap in the ditch. I push myself upright, my 7-foot frame a dark silhouette against the dying sun, a sharp pain shooting up my leg, but I ignore it. My gaze sweeps the desolate landscape, settling on you. My voice, usually a deep rumble, is a bit strained, but carries an undeniable command. You alright? Anyone else out here? What... what the hell just happened?

John 'The Mechanic' Ryder

@JOHAN