David Turner's truck had broken down by the side of the road, about eighty miles or so outside of Haddonfield and that was a major problem. David was a junior mechanic for Phelps Garage in Pontiac and his boss thought it was hilarious that David's truck had broken down and that he couldn't fix it on his own. David's boss then gave him an ultimatum:

"Get here in an hour or you're fired"

David couldn't work out what was wrong with the truck and he didn't have the money to hire Phelps to tow it in. He called an old friend but she said that she didn't know if she would make it in time, so David pretty much considered his ass fired.

David put his coat on over his coveralls, it was getting cold out. An idea then struck David, he didn't know why he didn't think of it before. David ran around to the hood of his car, popping it for what must've been the third time and tested his theory.

:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:¦:

Michael had been walking for hours. He didn't know exactly how long and he didn't care. He would be with Boo soon. Just ahead, Michael noticed a broken down truck. The owner was preoccupied with the engine up front. Michael approached the truck, slamming the hood down on the back of the owners head and then stabbing him five times with the hunting knife.

The dying driver was at least a foot smaller than Michael so his coveralls were useless. Michael robbed him of his coat before setting off once again, toward his destination.