[i]Holy shite that's a tidy wee car.[/i]

I'm sitting here, in this homely overcast weather, when this thing of fucking beauty glides up next to me. Werner, that cheeky Kraut/Yank/whatever the fuck he is boy, was just visible through the stylishly tinted glass. Everything about this car makes the guy seem... important. The sleek, professional body gives us the impression of bankers but the roar of the bastard makes us men. Werner turns to us and gives us a quick wave, nothing more expected from him, and greets us as we cram into the ride. I sit down on that leather and let out a soft wee fart, and it warms my arse right up. The leather which swallows your body like a fucking bean bag shares the fart warmth all about my body and I shiver into a deeper, cosier position. "What's happening, Bratwurst?" I jokingly ask Werner. I wouldn't say we were best mates or any of that shite, but Werner's one of those blokes who don't talk so you can get the last word in. Just perfect. He'll bounce off you once in a while with a comeback and will smirk at a joke when he has to. Not entirely professional, but enough for a blonde broad with big ol' titties to feel bored and unloved. That's when I swoop in and shag her right. 

"No bother buddy, rich can do. You got a twenty I can borrow or something though because I'm fucking broke!" I holler, laughing my arsehole off. Us Scots are the steengiest fuckers in the world. If anyone can pull of hoarding money, it's fucking me. I run my hands through my hair and rearrange it on my head so it looks presentable instead of my greasy plane-sex-sleep current look. Not that it helps the the greasy plane-sex-sleep look at all, just that I put my fucking paws through it. Juan mentioned that he didn't know anything about the job. I panic, get scared, wonder why we even went this fra if nothing had been arranged. "Are you fucking kidding me? Are you telling me you've brought us from sunny sexy Monaco on the Med to this festering cesspit if you and that dozy fucking Alex prick haven't even got anything sorted? We're robbing something, soon, and if I don't [i]fucking[/i] know what I'm shooting, I'm gonna be shooting fucking every-fucking-thing! Just because wee taj's like you down in Tacoland steal willy-fucking-nilly doesn't mean us civilised folk do it that way!" I scream, louder and louder at each [i]fucking[/i] obscenity. This would be the point I'd walk away at, when I realised that nothing but jail time and gangbang in the shower block are coming for me, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. The fucking car was still moving.