Opposite Paws

What Money Can't Buy PT.3

The truck slowly putted up the driveway, lush green plants surrounding the concrete. It was a good thing the plants were on the opposite side of the truck to the exhaust, otherwise they would've been killed by the black smoke billowing out of the rusty metal pipe.

Brownie clicked another button on her key fob and a mighty garage door opened in the middle of one of the buildings. Despite being a garage, it looked almost like a winter cabin, every inch being beautifully decorated with patterns or wooden accents. Patches stalled to take the sight in, the pitter patter of rain covering the truck.

"You can pull into the garage there, just park it anywhere you want."

Patches obliged, slowly creeping the truck into the open door, with it slowly closing behind him. He parked the truck near the door, taking the key out of the ignition. The engine puttered before shutting off, the truck rattling as it did so. They both opened the truck's doors and got out, Brownie patting her clothing to get all the dust off.

"Oh come on, it wasn't that dirty."

Brownie scoffed and walked over to the wall, a sliver of light slowly fading from it as the garage door closed. She flicked a switch, and the garage suddenly filled with light. Patches squinted his eyes from the sudden surge of brightness, the soft hum of fluorescent lights radiating from the ceiling. As his eyes adjusted, they fell on the glistening paint of several high-end cars.

"Woah..."

Brownie looked back at him.

"Cool, huh?"

Patches looked around, the bright red paint of Ferraris and vibrant blues of Bugattis contrasting the bleak gray walls and floor, both of which being so polished you could see the car's reflection in them.

"Hell yeah, I never would've guessed you'd have anything like this!"

"Well, they're technically my dad's."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he likes to work on them from time to time."

"I see... they're still very cool though."

"Yeah haha."

Brownie turned down the aisle between the cars and began to walk down it.

"Come on, the house is this way."

Brownie walked between the cars, poking the hood ornaments of a lumbering Rolls Royce as she did. Patches followed suit.

"I've always dreamed of having cars like these."

"Didn't everyone? I don't know anyone who didn't want a Lamborghini at least once."

Patches chuckled, his eyes still locked on the bright, polished paint of all the cars. As he was walking, one caught his eye in particular. Not because it was extremely fancy, but because it wasn't. He stood in front of the car, a 1987 Ford Fairlane, navy blue. Something about it seemed oddly familiar.

"Hey, Brownie..."

She stopped and turned around.