1, Pride
"I am the best and don't you forget that," Murdoc ragged on as the front car door cracked open. The alarm went off for the third time. Nosy glances glared at the windows suspiciously coated in condensation. The windshield wiper played their steady rhythm.
"Dullard, buckle your damn bet!" Murdoc dictated.
Facing the backseat, his eyes flickered with flames.
"What are you doing?"
"The cars' beeping 'cause you need to shut the door before you drive," Russell grumbled. He sat with his arms crossed. Ennui creased his face as he rolled his eyes. "2d, forget it. It broke."
"But this banjo is so delicate…"
"What did you just say" Murdoc smirked. "Talk like a man, the least you could do around this place to be worth my precious time."
"Zip it, you," Noodle muttered. 'Drive! Drive! Aya, drive!"
"This is my jeep and I'm proud of it, so you better treat it with dignity," Murdoc boomed and threw his empty vodka can out the window. "Take that, you marshmallow Americans!"
"You need mental help," 2d answered for the pedestrians outside doing exactly what he'd wish he'd be doing concurrently - minding their own businesses. Instead, jalapeños grilled hot in his cheeks.
"I'm not the one unaware of a car jarring right for my head, ey mate?"
"This again?"
In relief, Murdoc's jeep trampled along the yellow blades of grass. Russell suggested about five times that he drive into the parking lot. He was to 'proud' to do that.
"These marshmallows want a bass slayer, they got to have dignity. Oh and yes I'm proud!"
"Muurdoc, sit your bottom down before you start a wreck," Russell said flatly.
"You spoil the bloody fun out of everything. Give me the sodden banjo, face-flipping-pancake!"
The engine wheezed and withered away. A towering green bin towered over their heads. Murdoc's grin slid to the ground and laced his shoes. The next moment, he dropped and cried- this meet was a joke.