Hallo?
[Alfons' voice is muffled and there's the quiet sound of a wooden door creaking open. The PCD is in his coat pocket and it's switched on without him realizing.]
Ist anyvone in here?
[After a pause, the door can be heard opening wider, then there's silence for a few moments before Alfons gasps. The video feed finally clicks on, showing Alfons' fingers and hand, then he sets the PCD down on a window ledge. He's in what looks like a garage or maybe a large shed; there's tools and a few work tables scattered about the room, but that isn't what's caught his eye, oh no. He's already on his knees on the other side of the room, looking over a large motorcycle. The bike is beaten up, rusted in places, clearly missing parts, but Alfons still looks like a kid in a candy store.
And yes, that is definitely quite possibly a bit of a squeal that he let out.]
[[OOC: Alfons can be less useless now! Still... still illiterate, but no longer an illiterate lump. He was getting a bit, well, depressed there, heh.
Anywho, he found
this bike sitting around in some random house/garage/shed building-type thing and is going to spend weeks and months fixing it up, even if it kills him. Which it just might, I mean it's Alfons we're talking about. It's an electric motorcycle, so no pesky, hard-to-find fuel needed, hah!]]