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I was riding on the highway headed to the bar when of course my old fucking truck gave up on me. I knew I should've just rode my horse. I flipped my pockets inside out looking for that fucker folks call a cell phone.

I was supposed to meet up with a longtime friend Lars Ulrich, some crazy European guy. He wanted to have a drink to celebrate our catch on some homosexual who has been warranted for sodomy and public indecency, he was a slippery motherfucker but I used my own knowledge to figure out where a gay man would hide.

"Hey Lars." I started as I heard him pick up.

"What's going on Jim?" He asked. I already heard the hunky tonk being played in the background, of course he couldn't even wait for me.

"My fucking truck gave up on me, I may be late or not show up at all." I said knowing this would absolutely crush his heart.

"Ahh fuck you James. You're missing out, Rhonda is here and she is working the bull if you know what I mean." He said. I could see him winking through the phone.

I scoffed and hung up, next was to call a nearest mechanic. I wasn't familiar with any since I normally ride on horse, but thanks to the internet I was able to find the nearest one.

'Hammet Mechanic' I read to myself. Sounds stupid. It sounded ridiculous to be even, but hey if Hammet Mechanic can fix old Betsy then hell.

I dialed the number and the phone was picked up almost instantly. A man with a soft voice and some heavy metal playing in the background answered.

"Hello partner, is this Hammet Mechanic?" I asked unsure if I accidentally called some teenager.

"Yes, how my I help you?" The man asked.

"Well my truck done turnt on me so I need you to check her out and I also need a tow, how much extra is that?" I asked.

"The tow is about 20 dollars added to whatever the cost is to fix your truck." He said.

I hummed and figured I tell him where I was now since it was getting pretty fucking hot.

"I'm over on Dill Rd and 32nd in front of Darleens salon." I said.

"Ok, i'm sending help to you. Please expect us in 10 minutes." He said.

"Alrighty, thank you." I said.

I hung up and decided to hide my cash just in case motherfuckers like to steal at Hammet Mechanic.

But just as the man on the other end said, a truck with a tow came in about 12 minutes time. And lord was I grateful since I was burnin up more than a baked potato in that truck.

The man was shorter than me and looked younger, he had straight long hair and kind of a bulky build.

"Are you the truck that stopped?" He asked.

I wanted to be sarcastic but it's probably apart of his job to ask and so being a dick was such a dick move.

"Yes, James." I said putting my hand out to shake.

"Robert, i'll be taking you over to the shop and you'll get situated there." He said shaking my hand.

I hopped in the truck and Robert began driving me to this Hammett Mechanic. Which made me wonder is it really just one guy or is it like some family thing. So I decided to ask.

"Is the mechanic one guy or is it some family thing?" I asked.

"Yes and yes. The main mechanic is Kirk Hammett, he normally works on everything but there's other people for different things, but his dad made the company years ago and so he's taking over if that makes sense." Robert explained to me.

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