[Who the actual fuck is this dude? Ellie gives him an intensely suspicious look before scoffing a little at that friendly 'advice'. She's also instantly aware of the fact that she's sitting down, and he's standing. He might not be a big guy, but she doesn't like that disparity and so scrambles up off the sidewalk, dusting her hands on her jeans.
Also, for the bats among us: she is definitely carrying a gun stuffed into the waistband of her pants. It's a small-calibre pistol, but it makes an awkward silhouette against her long-sleeved shirt if you know what to look for.]
Does it look like I'm cutting it? Whoever designed this fucking thing must've done it with their head up their ass.
[Seriously, who would block off access to the lug-nuts-- bolts, whatever, the things that keep the tire on like this? She has to take the muffler off to even begin undoing them. This is so stupid she may never rent another one.]
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Also, for the bats among us: she is definitely carrying a gun stuffed into the waistband of her pants. It's a small-calibre pistol, but it makes an awkward silhouette against her long-sleeved shirt if you know what to look for.]
Does it look like I'm cutting it? Whoever designed this fucking thing must've done it with their head up their ass.
[Seriously, who would block off access to the lug-nuts-- bolts, whatever, the things that keep the tire on like this? She has to take the muffler off to even begin undoing them. This is so stupid she may never rent another one.]