Scratchy finding himself all alone down a dank and weary alley-way, catching the sweet night air after a good dig. With a box of cigarettes under his flat cap, shovel across his shoulder and his pockets filled with jewellery - he begins to whistle an assortment of notes. As the metal collides with each other with each step - his dirtied ragged clothes makes his findings look even more appetising. 

As the smoke rising from some of the adjacent houses as the air gets chillier, Scratchy finds a nice spot near the end of the alleyway, still whistling - he puts himself in a corner near a metal bin. As the wind starts to flutter through his new home he's made for himself temporally as he sorts through his jewellery noting the shiny ones from the dulled, he's remembered of his own mortality. 

Floating from the alley to around town - Scratchy stumbles upon an abandoned spacious building, was once a building that was meant for fermenting foods but since the influx of motor-vehicle innovation - it has been dumped, scraped and left. His own motive and hobby is driving - but being raised in the Chicago area, missed opportunities rused him from the legit throughout him, knowing some people from his last venture throughout Los Angeleas and Las Vegas, the contractors and permits he could get together was no problem.

Two months later, with his digging days still ahead of him - Scratchy gets a call from his home as he lays in bed, simple words from his friends he knew before who worked on his buildings in the past;

"It's done, the keys are under the matt," With the phone down, jumps out of the chair he was laying in, Scratchy puts on his racing jacket, swiling whiskey, spitting half on the floor before drinking the rest

Finding himself at the very doorstep of the building, he takes the key from the matt, taking off his helmet with his one hand as he opens the door and walks through. The Spacious atmosphere and the new smell of refurbishment took him back to his old ways - the single garage door was pessimistic, but as his last venture failed - this was the move he made, but the area that filled was quite advanced for what other mechanics had - the flooring was white tiling and the walls were maroon coloured - all the tools and the appropriate liquids that a car uses on a daily basis on the shelf made him gleam - not needing to spend anything makes anyone put on a smile.

As a person named Lawrence knocks on the door as he slips into the room with his jumpsuit already on with a bit of elbow grease already walks into the shop;

"Hey, Scratchy right?" Lawrence exclaims,

"Howdy, your a friend of a friend?" Scratchy responds,

"Yeah, let me show you around - grab a jump suit and you'll see what our customers can receive, simple engineering - brings in the moolah though," Lawrence chuckles as he walks towards the counter with his arms crossed.

Finding his jumpsuit - Scratchy takes off his dirtied ragged jacket, from a long day of grifting the graves and many post offices within the Bricktown district, as he walks outside and looks at the board:

Senokot, In&Out
Car-services:
Full service (Includes full motor vehicle support checkup) : $150

Individual service (Specific problems): $85

Window replacement: $25

Oil change: $35

Free tea or coffee while waiting.

With a smile on Scratchy's face, he goes back inside and stands next to three barrels - knowing that he wont make enough money from the legit side of things - he grabs a can of oil and fills each one them, as he takes out three plastic tight bags fulled with deadly arms such as; Tommy-gun, .Colt and explosives. Each sink into the oil as Lawrence loads them onto the truck already, ready to travel to other states.

Sitting at the desk as things externally move forward, internally - Scratchy looks towards the garage door as it lays wide open waiting for a customer