“I don’t know, a plasma cutter or a saw or something.” Drawers are flying open left and right.
“Plasma cutter? What the fuck?”
She stops, puts her hands on her hips, “There are no rules about what conditions the tires must be given back in, Cole. I checked.”
“Jesus Christ.”
I think for a minute then find one of our wheel-gun guys who always has one of those oversized pocket hunting knives on him. He’s
some kind of survivalist or whatever those prepper types refer to themselves as. He’s outside sealing up a metal freight container.
“Hey, uhh, Jeff, can I borrow your knife for a second?”
“Sure,” Jeff pulls it out of the holster on his belt, because of course, it needs its own holster and hands it to me. “I’m telling you, everyone needs a good knife, Cole.”
“Uh-huh, thanks,” I run back into the garage and drag Emily into the back room.
The door to the bathroom is locked, and Emily bangs on the door.
“Who-eeees-eeeet?” Dante calls from inside.
“Open the fucking door,” I growl and look around to make sure no one sees this.
He cracks the door, grinning like a psychopath, and Emily and I rush inside and lock it behind us.
I open up the knife, “Okay, what are we doing?”
“I need a chunk of that tire, through the middle, like this big,” she holds up her hands for size.
“Right…”
Dante rotates the tire and kneels on it to hold it steady as we formulate our plan of attack.
“Don’t cut my dick off,” he jokes as I force Jeff’s ridiculous knife into the tire and start hacking at it. It is every bit as difficult as I expect it to be, and we’ve bent the shit out of Jeff’s beloved knife.
“Hurry up,” Emily whispers.
“Hurry up,” I look up at her, “you want to do this?”
“Give it to me,” Dante takes the knife and starts sawing.
We’ve got about half of it done when the doorknob wiggles and someone knocks. All of us go silent for a second before Emily calls out, “We’re in here!”
“Uhh, we?” A voice behind the door asks.
Shit. All three of us look at each other. Emily’s hand goes to her mouth, we don’t know if this is a regular crew person or Concordia.
“Oh, Cole, give it to me,” Emily blurts out in a panic and starts banging the wall and moaning.
“What the fuck?” I whisper, but she just shakes her head and shrugs.
Dante snorts, “Yeah, take this cock, Cole. Choke on it…”
I slug him in the shoulder, and he falls off the tire onto the floor laughing his ass off and moaning.
“Fuck the both of you,” I take the knife back and keep sawing.
“Uh, I’ll just come back later,” the voice from outside the door says.