The Sergeant's deadline is tonight. An offer to get in contact with people you know, yet also a threat. Given how fed up he was, it's unlikely he's joking about the kind of cruelty he's willing to go through for the sake of getting what he wants.
That's why it may not be so surprising that, early in Friday morning, there's this air of tension, despite the bright sun in the sky. It doesn't help that a firetruck and a couple patrolcars race through the streets, passing in front of the motel and going west. The reason why is clear after a single glance:
There's a thick column of black smoke emanating from somewhere inside the Junkyard.
Ones he doesn't want to relive right now, so he's focusing on ... whatever the hell this is. He guesses he'll just have to bring the mop with him, though he'll be hoping to grip where none of that clear liquid is present. Which might be a lost cause...
Anyway, what is this thing that is sticking to it? As in, if he looks closer at it, can he get a better view on what these particles look like and whatnot? ]
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Ones he doesn't want to relive right now, so he's focusing on ... whatever the hell this is. He guesses he'll just have to bring the mop with him, though he'll be hoping to grip where none of that clear liquid is present. Which might be a lost cause...
Anyway, what is this thing that is sticking to it? As in, if he looks closer at it, can he get a better view on what these particles look like and whatnot? ]
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Rust]
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...He also believes he's done with this for now, so time to abscond with the mop. ]