Where: Enterprise
When: April 27, 2012
What: Chester coincidentally has a necessary car part when Tilly coincidentally has a break down in front of his place on the side of the road.
"Mother of all that is holy"
Normally said phrase is accompanied by the penitent on their knee's clutching a string of beads in palm and supplicating to some holy deity with the hopes that whatever they are praying for will be heard.
Tilly's not on her knee's. She's not supplicating, or even saying a prayer. "Really? REALLY? You piece of shit. How could you do this to me? I mean really, how could you do this to me. Do you want to go to a junk yard? Because I will not hesitate to haul you to the back forty of some hill billies personal private rust collection and make you his prized posession"
All this said as the tall and sturdy blonde is shaking a finger in a menacing way to an fairly new looking black camaro with two white stripes down the center, the hood up. "Son of a bitch. Do not make me call triple A you bastard"
Chester just happens to be leaning against the fence of his yard. A small one story deal, not exactly luxurious, but home. He stands there, chewing on an unlit pipe, then, after a while, he approaches the woman. "Excuse me, madam.", he says, as quietly and politely as he is able to, while looking up at her. "I could not help but overhear that you are angered at your vehicle. May I be of any assistance?" Well, considering the way he is dressed, he could easily be mistaken for a mechanic… which, in a sense, he kinda is. Sorta. Not quite. Ok, only remotely. At least, from a professional standpoint.
This day and age, random men, offering roadside assistance to woman isn't perhaps the most comforting thing. At Chester's offer, Tilly's turning to look at him, hands sliding down to rest at her hips and glare at him. At her belt, the round silver circle with the star in it that denotes her as a US Marshal.
"No, I'm singing sweet lullaby's to it"
Chester looks down at the Camaro. "Well, seems like it worked like a charm. This baby is fast asleep, it appears." He just turns to look down at the engine, puts the unlit pipe back in his mouth, chews on it for a moment, then pulls it out again, "Brand new Chevy Camaro, built at the beginning of February 2012, given the serial number. Looks like you won the Groundhog Day Lottery." He turns to Tilly. "Chevy got a shipment of faulty battery cables, which they promptly shipped back… but for a very small time window, on February 2, a very small number managed to get installed into actual production models and get shipped out." He chews on the pipe a bit again, and then, pulling it out, continues, "I could offer you a replacement cable, or, if you do not mind, I could do the job myself. I kind of like to dabble with cars. I got my family car to work when it seemed impossible. More than once." Which is a technically true description of what he did when he used to hotwire his dad's car to go joyriding with his friends. "I would be delighted if, as a citizen, I could provide my humble contribution to the police force."
"NO shit sherlock. Next time I should be screaming some def leppard at it." Tilly shifts in spot, looking at where the battery is with a raised brow, reaching down to poke at it. "You often try to suck up to people with a badge. It won't get you out of a parking ticket" She pokes at cords coming off the battery again with a scowl before stepping back, sweeping an arm towards the engine.
"Get in there car nerd. If you so happen to conveniently have the part in question and I don't have to wait three hours for it. I gotta be somewhere in an hour and it wasn't the ass end of town" She opts to lean against the drivers side door and watch Chester behind her aviators, arms cross over her chest, leather jacket protesting.
Chester gets snapped out from his admiring the hubs of the Camaro. "Nice wheels.", he comments. He then tilts his head sideways and adds, "I've spoken with a lot of people. They seem to agree on a point: being too respectful with an officer won't get you out of tickets. Being too disrespectful to an officer is SO going to get your little backside roasted like a marshmallow at a boy scout camp: white, puffy, and with little black streaks on them when they're done." He shrugs. "I prefer to err on the side of caution." He then looks down, comments, "Nice engine.", and extracts a rolled-up battery cable from a pocket, and starts working his magic. After swapping the cables and pulling out his head… he might or might not have taken notice of the woes of Tilly's jacket, and he /is/ technically looking down, so it's hard to tell… but he does comment, "Nice bumpers."
Tilly believes in co-incidences. They happen. More often than people think. Tilly also has a healthy suspicion and distrust of co-incidence. Just because they do happen so much. So she's peering from her leaning point and watching as best she can, making sure that Chester isn't just up and messing with her baby.
"Are they? I just liked the stripes when I walked onto the lot. That, and it makes a purring sound when I let it idle. I like the purring sound. I guess the bumpers are pretty, if you're into that sort of things. What's your name grease monkey?"
Chester replies, "They are, indeed nice stripes. And the purring is nice as well. I'm sure if a cat was to sit on the hood of this baby when she's idle, they'd make a nice concert." He pauses for a moment. "Or 'he'. I heard you call him 'son of something something', so I guess he must be a he." He smirks and holds up the replaced cable. "Too bad you were in such a hurry… you know, given how rare these actually installed faulty cables are, if you had the time to wait a few hours to have it legally certified first, this thing might have been worth, like a few hundred bucks on ePay." He turns to look at it as he chews once more on his unlit, tobaccoless pipe. "Now that we've broken the factory seal, there's no way to tell it from an uninstalled faulty cable." He removes the pipe and looks at Tilly. "I'm Chester. You?"
"Marshal Marshal" She unfolds her arms and offers a hand for shaking. "He I think. Men, always fucking you over and not always in a good way. DOn't care too much about the cable, you keep it." She flips her aviators up, get a good look at Chester. 'Car nerd for a living or something else Chester?"
Chester extends hand to shake if Marshal Marshal is okay with that. "Kinda. I install casino and bar equipment. From slot machines to drink and snack vending machines to water coolers. We still haven't explored the freshly made donut vending machine market. Yet." He pauses a moment to pocket the cable. "They're kinda like cars, except they don't move, normally need money in order to get them to operate, and are always failing you when you most need them. I guess they're kinda like broken cars, which is why I'm so good at handling them." He then smirks. "Now, now, Marshal Marshal… I don't think I have effed you over in a non-good way, have I?"
"No, so far you've been the smoothest date I've ever had. Though you just described most of the men I know too just now" The aviators go back down with a flick of her forefinger and cover the blue eyes from sight. "What's your last name Chester? If I wanted to say… send you flowers?" A shrug of her shoulders. Because, you know, she's the kind of person who just might send flowers for changing out a cable cord on the side of the road in the ass end of vegas.
Maybe.
Chester suddenly gets very serious. "….Cheddar.", he simply says, almost gloomily. "My parents had an odd sense of humor."
"Chester Cheddar" A sage nod of her head. "You think yours did. I'm Marshal Tilly Marshal. Can't get worse than that" There's a smack of her palm against the car. "Thanks Chester cheddar, for helping a lady out on the road. But I got a bag o' cheeto's to consume, and a meeting to get to." Forefinger and middle tap her temple and she fires off a mock salute. "See you 'round Chester" the locks un-engage with the press of a button on her keyfob and the federal agent is sliding into her car. "Stay cool"
Chester does not believes in coincidences. But they happen anyway. More often than people think. Chester also has a healthy suspicion and distrust of co-incidence. Not to mention a natural inclination to plagiarism. Wait, I mean, he greets her back the same way she did. "I'll try. You do the same." And the pipe is re-inserted back in his mouth, and chewn a little.
