First up: Grandpa Max. The one who can legally drive...and do plenty of other alien-fighting things which I doubt are legal.
A lot of things bother him. Like the way his hair is starting to panel off into a darker shade of grey and how the tea always tilts to the wrong side of the cup when the van isn't even moving. A little jitter of the fingers and he feels the scorch of the temperature drip through the china.
He doesn't even like tea anyway, he always thought it was more of a snobby, British tendency to show why the restraint and authority of tradition have the power to hold back little men in grey suits from saving the world. And hell, the china isn't even made up of that good quality you expect to find on this side of the globe, it's become worn down with sudden curves and lopsided edges; he'll give it its due credit though. Not all china pieces breathe for long in this van.
But he craves the action, the excitement that beckons youth away. The youth that rests in the eyes of those children who allow him to replay a role he'd previously outgrown, that lets him revisit a few scenarios he remembers and a few he'd rather not. So many memories, encounters and far too many pleasantries exchanged…
And now he just wishes he could be sure that bright, vibrant green that sparkles in the rain when his grandchildren stare out the window and moan at their shimmering reflections is a hundred percent human. And he wishes himself away to another time, another place, where he didn't have to worry about throwing away anyone's life except his own and to charge into a granite-toned building with a gun could set a man's veins on fire. But then he realises his selfishness and the existence of his grandchildren and even those dull lives of his own children that he values higher than any creature he's even seen in this life or the next.
Maybe he grew up to fast, maybe he's old and maybe he's making his own family grow up too fast but hey, he just sets his hands on the wheel and tells those possibly-human grandchildren of his to quit yapping and buckle up. Because that's what he does. And it doesn't seem to bother him in the least.