Look at that mechanic's bloodshot, sleepless eyes - he's a tweaker. It takes a goodly number of unnecessary repairs to finance such a lavish meth lab as the one brewing in Blueshirt McNametag's basement. The mechanic may be sufficiently confused to get Ziggy's lemon of a gas-guzzler confused with some fancy-schmancy organic car, but he knows what he'll be doing with his unfairly-sizable commission when his shift finally ends. Bubblers, beakers and benders - oh my!
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