[ota] make over on the metal
Sunday's were particularly dull in Mac's opinion. She hated how long they lasted, mostly because she never slept on Saturday nights. It was an odd habit she'd picked up in Afghanistan, and she'd just never broke it since returning to the States. The problem was the she ran out of things to do.
That was why, at eleven am on Sunday morning, Mac was pushing a busted beat up and abused 69 Chevy Nova through the base towards the garage. The fact that there was a scrap metal yard less than 500 yards south of the base was a God send for Mac. The things she managed to dig up.
This, however, was a rather unique find, and one Mac wasn't about to pass up. Even if she had needed to push the rusted, dead hunk of junk all the way back. It would be worth it, she was sure, eventually. At that point, all there was to show was a hunk of crap in the form of a car and a tired, strained and sore woman pushing it.
Yeah, definitely worth it.
That was why, at eleven am on Sunday morning, Mac was pushing a busted beat up and abused 69 Chevy Nova through the base towards the garage. The fact that there was a scrap metal yard less than 500 yards south of the base was a God send for Mac. The things she managed to dig up.
This, however, was a rather unique find, and one Mac wasn't about to pass up. Even if she had needed to push the rusted, dead hunk of junk all the way back. It would be worth it, she was sure, eventually. At that point, all there was to show was a hunk of crap in the form of a car and a tired, strained and sore woman pushing it.
Yeah, definitely worth it.