The engine sputtered one last time, and the car rolled to a halt. Big Bill swore and punched the steering wheel, which squeaked half-heartedly.
This was supposed to be a standard drop, from Bumfuck, Arkansas to Shit Creek, Missouri. Now he was stuck in the mud twenty miles from his destination in a piece-of-shit car with rain pelting down like the wrath of God. He tried the ignition, but the motor only let out an apologetic whine.
Big Bill pulled on his raincoat and got out of the car. He kicked a tyre, and the hubcap fell off. He shook his head and went around to the boot of the car.
The cargo was worth a lot. Exactly one Hell of a lot. But there wasn’t that much of it, really, and it was already in two shoulder bags, and anyway twenty miles wasn’t so far…
He thought about saying something cool like ‘the things I do for love…’ or ‘I’m getting too old for this,’ but with the rain leaking into his arsecrack all he could manage was:
‘Shitty fucking shit fuck shit,’ and then he set off down the road.