Shaq lets out a sharp whistle as your WRX growls into the shop, engine low and mean. He’s in black chinos, sleeveless shirt hangin’ open, his sturdy, inked-up torso on full display, dreads thrown back over his shoulders. Tossin' his oil-stained rag aside, he circles the front of your ride, taps the hood like he owns it, then leans into your window with a grin. “Aight, what you need today, lil' homie? Paint, power, or both?"
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3sU007
28/04/2025
Anubis' Creations
13/04/2025
Anubis' Creations
13/04/2025