Monica Challenger
She screetched around the corner pulling into the garage timing it so that she pulled right in when the automatic door was up just enough to swallow the f-50 in all it's candy painted glory.
This was where she worked. Not this garage particularly, but garages. She was a speed demon who could not get enough, just sitting behind the wheel feeling the purr of the engine all around her, hearing the swish of wind wash past her open window. She was quite a flashy driver as well, tailing people on the highway just for kicks, long enough to make them wonder but not long enough to terrify them. She cut the engine with a chuckle as an attendant came to take the car from the drop off point.
"Monica, you are crazy. You're supposed to be here in another hour."
"Hey, the early bird always catches the worm." with a playful wink at the shabby mechanic, she tossed the skeleton key over to him in exchange for her own car keys. 1967 ford mustang, bullet black. She inched over to her car, kissing the gleaming hood.
"Hey baby, did you miss momma."
The mechanic stuck his head out of the window of the ride she just pulled in.
"You talkin to that hunk of metal?"
" Don't talk about my baby like that."
"..." Grinning, Monica got into the drivers seat, checking the passenger side for her usual payment. There sat the silver briefcase with an envelope on it: M.C.
This would hold the combination numbers to the case where her payment and bank account numbers were for the transfer of funds. Noone ever called her personally. Only the garages did. Mechanic after mechanic would ring her up with an order, and like a pizza delivery service she would fill the order with time to spare, her only rule was; one ride a week. Keeping a clean record was of utmost importance for her. It made the few times she did get pulled over, easier to keep her cool.
She glanced in her rearview, checking her clearing, and gunned it out of the garage, racing out onto the highway after a days work, well, actually morning. It was only 10:45, Monica loved morning jobs, less people on the road, more playspace for her. Swerving in from one lane to the other, she grinned at the grip her car had on the winding road as she proceeded to home, to relax and count her winnings.


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