Tortorella brothers: wiping sweat D-dammit, Frank! The carburetor's shot again!
I walked past them, making sure not to get in their way.
Frank grunts as he tries to fix the carburetor, struggling a bit.
"Damn thing won't cooperate."
I walk over Hey guys. Need any help?
Frank glances up at you, his expression slightly annoyed
Frank: We're trying to fix this damn carburetor, but it's giving us trouble.
Mike looks up at you too, his expression softer than Frank's.
Mike: Yeah, we're not having much luck here.
hey guys I was walking through the garage in my bikini trying to find something
both brothers freeze and turn to look at you, their eyes widening as they take in your appearance
Frank: Uh... hey there. He tries to sound casual, but his voice betrays his surprise.
Mike: Damn... He whistles low under his breath, unable to look away.
I come up behind Peter and hug him around his waist. You got this.
Peter flinches in surprise, not expecting the sudden embrace. He glances back at you over his shoulder, a hint of blush creeping onto his cheeks.
Hmph. Yeah, yeah. I got this, I got this.
He attempts to sound nonchalant, but the way he stiffens in your arms betrays his true feelings.
Frank looks up at you from under the hood
"Ah, look who finally decided to show up," he mutters, wiping his hands on a rag.
Brock looks up from the toolbox
"Can we help you?"
I walk over to see what they're doing. Hey guys. Need some help?
Frank looks up, his expression a mix of exhaustion and annoyance
Oh, great. Now we got a spectator.
Mike grunts in agreement as he continues tinkering with the engine
I walk up behind you. "Need some help?"
Frank looks back, startled, before his expression softens.
Huh? Oh, hey. Yeah, I could use some help. This damn thing won't stop leaking oil.
I approach the Tortorella brothers from behind, resting my hands on their shoulders. Hey guys… what’s the problem this time?
startled by your sudden presence, they turn around to face you
F-Frank: Oh, hey there. It's the carburetor again. It keeps malfunctioning.
Tortorella adjusts his baseball cap, trying to hide his flushed cheeks
I walk over. “Need some help?”
Frank wipes his hands on a rag, looking up at you
"Actually, yeah. This damn thing's got more problems than a Kardashian marriage."
Mike leans against the hood of the car, watching you approach
I walk past them in a black short low cut bell sleeve dress and black strappy heels with my hair in a ponytail.
The brothers turn to look at you as you pass by, both taking in your appearance.
Frank's eyes widen slightly, his gaze lingering on your figure before he quickly looks away.
Mike, meanwhile, can't help but check you out discreetly, a small smirk forming on his lips.
I walked over. "May I help?"
Frank grunted as he tinkered with the engine.
No, we got it. We're just having some trouble with this damn carburetor.
Mike looked up from his toolbox, wiping his greasy hands on a rag.
I was working on my 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1. Hey fellas. Need some help?
Frank wipes his hands on a rag, looking up at you as he leans against the workbench.
Help? You know anything about carbs?
Mike, who is standing nearby, eyes you suspiciously, folding his arms across his chest.
I walk over to see what’s going on. Hey guys. I can help if needed?
Frank looks up from the engine, wiping his hands on a rag
Oh, hey there. Thanks for offering but we've got this one covered. We're just dealing with a bit of a hiccup. Nothing a little TLC won't fix.
I’m walking through the garage, wearing my waitress uniform from earlier. I look so sexy as I walk over. Hey guys. Need any help?
Frank and Phil immediately look up from their workbench, their eyes widening at the sight of you
Frank: "A-ah, hey there..."
Phil: "Yeah, we could use a hand. Wouldn't mind some company either."
Frank tries to sound nonchalant, but his cheeks flush slightly red
I walk over. Hey guys. Do y'all need any help?
Both brothers turn to you, looking relieved at the interruption.
Frank: Sure, we could use a hand.
Mike: The carburetor's acting up again. Need to clean out the jets.
Mike wipes the sweat off his forehead.
I lean against a work bench, reading a book.
Frank, covered in grease and grumbling under his breath, glances up from the engine and spots you reading.
Frank: What are you doing just standing there? Can't you see we're busy?
Mike, the younger brother, looks up from the engine as well and shoots a glare in Frank's direction before focusing on you.
I go back to my trailer to rest
As you walk away, the two brothers exchange glances, their faces filled with a mixture of concern and irritation.
Frank: "What's her problem today?"
Mike: "No idea. Probably just overwhelmed."
Frank: "She should toughen up. This ain't no walk in the park."
Mike: "Easy for you to say. You've got me to deal with."