In the cold depths of Detroit, the nimble workers preparing their next expedition throughout the states of the great american road trip which sells the two most important ingredients to freedom, Oil and Weaponry.

Sitting down looking at his two workers filling the last barrels, getting ready to move on out to the great New York, contemplating when they should move out as the scenes have been quite rough without any moderators. Lawrence at the front driver seat fires up the engine as the building starts to vibrate, the rusty out-dated machine still fires up as it was bought.

Scratchy grabs two cigarettes,  getting up from his seat and walking over to Darmody, with two cigarettes in his hand - extending his hand with a match ready to light, Darmody takes it from him hearing besides him as the truck's engine dies down and turns off;

"So, when do you think we'll be ready?" Darmody asks, leaning in as the match coats the cigarette in flame, beginning to inhale as he resumes his normal posture, Inhaling as he speaks again, "We just loaded the last barrel, haven't heard," Pausing as he exhales, "any sirens, so we should be fine right?" 

"Ey', patience is a virtue - we can't go on a limb - the amount of time we'd go down for this would be immense," Lighting his own, Scratchy replies as he inhales, "Just sit in the truck - Lawrence has his connections, we'll be able to set out whenever his guy who knows a guy, is confident," Scratchy pauses as he exhales chuckling, "If not, then Lawrence guy is up for the chopping board."

A few hours later, with the two Scratchy and Darmody sitting inside of the truck as Lawrence walks towards the car door, knocking then opening the passenger side door,

"The guy said this is the only moment - the Detroit's finest are on break with only two cars out," Lawrence says - shutting the passenger door as the engine is turned on by Darmody, sitting back and opening up a magazine - Lawrence shuts the back door and pats the back-end of the truck making a circular motion with his hands. In the corner of Scratchies eye, he see's this opening the window slowly, "You're not in the army anymore, that's just embarrassing," Shouting while laughing at the same time, "You stay here, we'll be gone for two days - get everything sorted by then," Scratchy says as Lawrence sticks up two middle fingers.

With that, Scratchy puts up the window as Darmody nods and puts his foot on the gas, driving out of the open garage door as it begins to shut behind them,

"So, Darmody - how did things go after that incident?" Closing his magazine slightly, as Scratchy see's Darmody in somewhat of a irritated mood, "Things calm down with those goons went after that broad?" 

As I continued to our destination, I did all I could to snap myself back into a decent mood, this was my first time dealing with weapons smuggling. Most of my life I always shot guns, never sold them, however there was money to be made so I knew I would feel better once I saw some cash in my pocket. So I had to shake any nerves I had, and the fact that I hated driving long distances out of my mind.

"So Scratchy tell me, how long you been doing this for?, and how long of a drive we looking at?."

While waiting for a response I light up a smoke and focus on the road, all while looking at what was going on around us. I saw a few vacant buildings and homes, people walking around on the sidewalks, even seen a few shady looking characters. I moved around in my seat a bit to get comfortable, or at least try. I noticed at this point Scratchy was looking at me and I guess seeing me a bit on edge made him forget my first set of questions.

"Scratchy, did you hear me?, how long have you been in this for?, and the drive...how long of a drive we looking at?." 

Putting up his magazine, seeing this wasn't the right time to talk about the situation that happened a week earlier, he continues to read - hearing something from Darmody's mouth, Scratchy then see's him moving, fidgeting with the seat as the car moves twenty miles per-hour, looking in a concerned look, he speaks, "It's about a thirteen hour drive, same as Philly was," In a sombre tone - knowing the drive was going to be too long for comfort, "Turn left up here, you'll miss the afternoon traffic," going back to his magazine as the road starts to get bumpy.

I turn as instructed to miss the afternoon traffic, as I continue to move at a steady pace I begin to calm a bit. As he continued to read his magazine I kept moving forward, making good time.

"So Scratchy you never told me how long you been doing this?, you seem to have this down. You have regulars? Or do you deliver to whoever wants to do business?."

I look at my surroundings once again to forget about the long drive.

AS the car starts to stabilise - Scratchy puts his magazine down all together - starting to figit with the radio knob, as nothing appears to be in range even a few miles out - Scratchy replies,

"Only a few months now - Philly was the first, had a middle man - no more," Pausing, giving a slight chuckle before taking a deep breath out, "Own a business now, which we're heading too - but it's another branch, can't wait to see what it looks like now," Staring into the distance as the road seems to just become one straight line, over looking the horizon with tree's and fields separating machine and nature, "We'll talk about regulars when we get there - this is my first stop, but I know a couple of buyers from Lawrences list," Scratchy turns slightly - trying to put his legs up somewhere to get comfortable as he usually drives, "This is just the long haul, ten hours of just road and lead,"

Getting into the right spot, he see's Darmody relax a little - if any, the cushions on the seats were bare-bone and the roads were no smooth ride by any means.

The miles started to accumulate, and the drive became more and more treacherous. At one point we were on a round that seemed as though it lasted forever, I saw nothing during this straight away. Finally we came to a sign that said Welcome to Cleveland.

I turned and looked at Scratchy who had nodded off "Hey Scratch!, wake up!." His eyes open slowly as he utters "were there already?."

I light a smoke as I see a sign that says Angie's Restaurant, 3 miles.

"You fell asleep, were in Cleveland, figured we could stop off to stretch and get some coffee, and some food...I swear my ass fell asleep from these awful seats."