Three Babes and a Scrapyard


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Scene Title Three Babes and a Scrapyard
Synopsis Elvis, Eve and Minea go to a scrapyard, separately. Three go in! only two come out! Well no. Eve takes off when she finds her part and the other two poke fun at an employee and find car parts.
Date December 13, 2008


Junkyards, proper junkyards rather are a dying breed across America. It used to be you could find a few for every city, evey small town had atleast one. Now there are auto salvage yards, and urban refitters but they arent the same. It makes this place, this singular location so very rare. There were cars, frames and chassis of busses and even rail cars dating back to the turn of the centruy, burried under stacks of fresh bodies. If you were able to -find- this place much less endure the clutter they surely were -bodies-, the husks of long dead mechanical vessels for souls. Back when people cared about the things they built, back when they cared enough to fix them.

Over past the section occupies mostly by the rotting corpses of pre-war mercedes, there were bikes too. Thats where you'll find Elvis, working feverishly at an overturned CBR that like her beloved Roger had clearly taken a life. Bits of jeans and hair, maybe even skin were jammed into the jagged faults of shattered fiberglass and carbon fiber. It had already been written off, like the five other CBR's she'd pried from the pile and layed out in the little clearing. Each battered Honda set right after the other, with a growing pile of parts and a bucket full of screws, wires, bolts, sodderless connections, ignition units and whatever else she found particularly worthy of saving.

It was cold, it was late and she could feel the frost coming but that wouldnt stop Elvis. No not tonight especially, she'd been so cooped up in that god damned Library she was on the very edge of going out of her mind. Sure it was better than the garden, but not by a whole helluva lot. "Mother fucker."she cursed softly, almost regretting her harsh words as a frost nibbled hand gently petted the poor thing's steering head. "Sorry sweetheart, I know its hard."

Minea's walking with the proprieter of the establishment. Her polished getup a contrast to him and his greasy overalls. A total mark if anyone would think it from looking at the woman. Pants, blouse, winter trenchcoat with fox fur collar. Onlyc oncession is some rubber boots he lent her. "Need a few parts for it. My usual mechanic was unable to find them, and I'd ideally like to replace them before it becomes an issue" What she's talking about is anyone guess. Littel matching fur ear muffs over her ears and leather gloves on hand.

Walking by is Eve Mas, dressed in a pair of black jeans and a tight black tank top, she is just placing a part in a bag on her shoulder as she almost walks by the three people. Her hair is in a high ponytail and her eerie gaze surveys the area. She might even be a little recognizable. Posters from the Orchid Lounge have recently started to be put up around the city.

Elvishad been at this for a couple hours now, ok well more like eight but hey who's counting? These were actually the last CBRs to have been pulled out of the stack. There were four wheels, two frames, six forks, two swing arms, three heads, and lord knows how many bars, clean but mismatched body panels and of course mirrors, lights and windscreens. Now she was working on the hard parts, engine, transmission, stator, seats and of course the fuel tank. Fuel tanks were tough as hell to track down, well here anyway.

'Elvis! Lady here needs parts for an 81 Malibu!" The pot bellied man beside Minea calls over to the much younger evovled. QUicklyf ollowed by that is a rattled off list of the parts, three in all. "Seen any around? John was too busy" Minea raises her brows at the name. Probably some smart ass retort almost leaving her tongue but she keeps it in check.

Eve stops and looks at the people gathered before her, she then begins to rummage through some parts lying in a pile not to far from her. "Parts, parts" she says softly.

Elvis rises slowly, spitting her cigarette aside. "Phil, wha..I dont work here. You want me to help you, you need to help me out here."She looks right past the potbellied fellow, glancing away only as she lights a fresh cigarette."this bill with delivery, better not be over six hundred or I'm cutting you off from my help and my business."She tugs a rag from her back pocket to rub her hands, the ache was almost audible as she rubbed warm blood back into her finger tips.

"Aw come on Elvis. You know I can't do a single thing about that. That's johns business. I got thirty other things on my belt and I don't need to be babysitting this woman" Spoken almost as if Minea wasn't standing there. But he sighs, cause he doens't wanna deal with what he obviously sees is some spoiled woman who wouldn't know her head from her ass. "Fine fine i'll do it. I'll go talk to John, just help her will you?" Eve is thrown a look, as if the guy could tell what was in her bag from looking at the bulges and calculating the total.

"Got what I need." Eve says simply and then she looks to the three people around her. Mainly Minea and Elvis. "See you guys." She says as if they are old friends and then meanders off. Her hair swinging as she walks.

Elvis frowns softly as she glares at phil, "I want a trailer here, and I want what I fill it for seven fifty delivered and I'll help her. Otherwise you can fuck off, I've been little miss considerate all fucking day with you and John and everyone else. You work here not me, so you want my help those are the terms."

"Good god she's got you by the balls. I can take care of myself. And i'll take care of her stuff too. If she has to deal with the likes of you every time she comes here, she deserves it. Elvis, Point me in the direction of the malibu corpses will you? I can get what I need myself" Potbelly is scowling. "See, she doesn't need your help. Your still paying what we woulda charged you for your stuff ya damned rat. There nowhere else for you to take your business and not get irradiated to death"

Elvis flicks the fucker off as he turns "God your such a prick, I'd rather be fucking glow in the dark than scalped you fat jackass!."she almost snorts, but instead steps back and turns "This way, darlin."she calls back, making her exit round a hulk of old Mercedes just as Pete is getting ready to make some witty retort.

'Easier to spot you and keep the fuck out of your way rat" A scowl at Minea, but hey, they're gonna make money regardless. "And you give those boot sback when your done. Holding yer fancy shoes hostage unless" Minea jsut rolls her eyes, making to follow the biker. "You'll get your five dollar farm boots back. Don't you worry" and that's all she's saying on that matter. Instead, her eyes are focused on Elvis and skirting around the mercedes. She's close to Elvis, not too close though and the blackberry is out to look over the list she needs. "Mechanic wants to jack me off on the price by getting it from somewhere for twice the price I can find it here, and the assholes up front don't want to help. Find all the parts, I'll pay for your shit, and tip you what I would have tipped them"

Elvis sniffles, rubbing her nose with a wrist as she leads you around stacks and stacks. "Yeah from one mechanic to another, I'm Elvis by the way."she slows a beat or so glancing over her shoulder. "Hey, what year Malibu did you need?"she wasnt really excited over the prospect of taking some spoiled bitch through the junkyard, but hey if she was gonna pay for her shit? Well something could be handled then."I'm a motorcycle mechanic actually, so dont even ask me about fixing your stuff."

'Don't intend to. I'll find someone else. Not about to put that car in just anyones hands. 81. Nice to meet you Elvis, I'm Minea. I don't know much about the car, but i'm not about to let the damn thing get in bad shape. My father'd turn over in his grave and she's been treating me well. Only fair that I do the same" Mud inevitably gets on the jacket, but Minea seems uncaring that it does. It's called a drycleaners for a reason. She lists off the parts again for the other womans benefit. "what are you hunting for if you don't mind my asking"

Elvis slips down a narrow alley, before finding the early eighties Chevrolets. "ah, your dad's shit. I feel you darlin."She snorts, turning to spit before she digs in. "Oh just replenishing my stocks, its tough to get brand new stuff from honda sometimes. "Which was a bold faced lie, but she wasnt gonna tell anyone about it. "NOS shit, is never as good as the original stock."

'Not my dad's shit. My dad's baby, and now my baby. Like Is aid, not jsut anyone's gonna touch her, and I'll find someome other than the guy I took her to, to put it all together. If you have any suggestions about someone, let me know" And lookit that, Minea's right there with her, leaning against the old car, blackberry slipped away, leather gloves off and poking at the guts of the car with her.

Elvis knows exactly where things are once she's got her hands under the hood, but she produces only one or two parts. Then its onto the next for a few more, the last bit however doesnt come easy. "I dont like those."she states simply, moving from car to car. She'll pop the belts free, and hand turn the alternator too and fro before moving to the next one. Only is it at car number eight, does she find one that passes her simple test. "Here, here we go."she nods, reaching in to pop the bolts free and then tug it free. "There, see most of these are dead. Not alot of old 350 smallblocks running around with stock alternators, you should really find a hotrodder. Like uh, I think the triple six hotrod shop is in Jersey? I'd put this on, and then when it dies replace it with a better one. All this stuff, is for a hotrod not a sunday driver. I reckon your pops would have wanted the hot aftermarket shit too."

'He knew more about it than I did, but I think I know what your talking about" Faithful blackberry out, trying in the name of the shop then tucked away once more. "Thanks for doing this. You've earned your stuff" Parts gahtered in one arm, tucked safetly like a mama duck and her eggs.

Elvis turns with a huff, she's a short little thing and oldskool GM were big cars. She turns, dropping her rump on a fender with a huff. "Maybe, sometimes and sometimes not."she rubs her hands on the same rag again, before lifting a hand to ruffle her own hair some. "Thanks, but yaknow if your dad's car is so important. When you take it to get fixed, maybe you should ask them to show you how to fix it? It aint the same when somone else does it, its like home cookin right?"

There's an urge to lie, to say yeah sure, i'll do that. Another thing on the tip of her tongue. "My job needs me doing something else than huddled under the hood of my car. It's not the same, no. But I can research and choose the right person to do it, someone I trust, who my father would have trusted. It's like homecooking, if you can do it, then, you can do it. But if you can't, then you make damned sure that you find someoen who can cook right, and good, and won't poison you"

Elvis shrugs, scratching at an ear if only to return a little bloodflow. "Right, I got'cha. Your call lady, I'm just saying yaknow? Anywho, dont ya'll worry bout it. You helped me out, I helped you out. We're square now, yaknow?"and a pause, for another cigarette. No doctor, she didnt smoke six packs a day.

'My call" Minea nods, then extends her hand to Elvis. "As I said, Thank you for helping. Have them add the bill to mine. Whatever you need this trip. "We are very square. Don't stay out too long. You'll freeze and you look like your already halfway there"

Elvis smirks, wavering her hand softly. "Bout three quarters, but thanks darlin I'll be entirely alright ok?"she leans back, looking back the way she came before finally hopping down and heading off. "I'll be seeing you then I guess, not many joints with smallblock chevies these days. Check out jegs automotive next time, or summit racing."

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't. All depends on where the wind carries me this time. If we cross, i'll be sure to ask for your help and bring a coffee as bribe" Minea is moving away, only slightly dingey from her moseyings.

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