Congratulations Porpoise Mechanic!

Most mechanics aren’t very bright. Not to say they’re stupid, they’re just not scientist material: they’ve got good heads, but they don’t generally invent stuff.

You’re special in that regard: you invented an above-water breathing apparatus that allows you, a porpoise, to explore the world outside the ocean to your heart’s content, manipulate objects with alarming dexterity and you work as a mechanic when you’re not inventing shit.

Oh, you’re also a porpoise who fixes cars. That makes you special too.

Anyhow, today you’re going to get an especially cool car to fix. Someone’s going to bring a big old ‘Cuda (pun unintended, but still great) from the mid sixties in. The customer will be a middle-aged businessman type, someone who likes muscle cars but doesn’t know a break pad from a drive shaft. He’ll want to know how much the whole rig will cost to fix.

You’ll smile (an imperceptible gesture for most people, because you’re a porpoise and people can’t easily interpret your facial expressions) and know right away that if you quote too high he’ll offer to sell you the car right then and there. It’ll be a fierce old beast, but the chassis will be all that’s left: you’ll be able to restore the entire thing for around ten or twenty grand in parts, far more in labor, but you’ll look him right in the eye and tell him, using your dolphin to English translator, just what you think of his attempt to get a car he can’t handle with your quote.

“Hundred thousand, hundred twenty,” the tinny robot voice will squawk.

The businessman will curse up and down, throwing shit about and swearing about the man who sold him the car, who told him exactly how much it would cost to fix it in parts but left out details like labor and over-quoting. When he calms down you’ll place one of your metal pincers on his arm and make him an offer he’ll be ready to hear.

“I will take the whole thing off your hands for twelve thousand dollars,” you’ll squawk. He’ll look at you like you’re crazy – he paid eight thousand for the whole wreck, along with a few hundred to get it to your shop. But after the two of you discuss it, and you use words like pet project and imply that you might sell the car to him after you patch it up if the fancy strikes you, he’ll come around.

At the end of the day your bank account (quite robust thanks to your inventions) will be down twelve grand, but you’ll have a sweet ass ‘Cuda with drop top that you can fix up and then ride around in wearing your driving robot suit and a burning desire to get that sucker gutted and fixed up. It’s going to look fucking awesome when you’re finished and driving around, so be sure to take it for a spin or two around our neighborhood.

Congratulations Porpoise Mechanic!