[ Eddie follows suit, pulling himself back inside the van and cutting the engine before he hops out to join her on the side of the road.
He’s thin and wiry, and his beat-up leather jacket is doing a hell of a lot of heavy lifting in making it look like a gentle breeze won’t knock him over. It’s probably true that Angel could probably use to be a little less trusting, but despite being considered scary back home, Eddie isn’t exactly the most intimidating person she could have run across. Truth be told, there’s not much more to him than a head of wild hair. ]
Well, uh, unfortunately, Mickey Thomas and Knight Rider here?
[ He brandishes the reject tapes again to indicate his point, then passes them along to her with a good-natured grin. ]
Not exactly up to my impossibly high standards.
[ And to be honest, his standards aren’t quite as high as he’s making them out to be. It’s true that he’s a metalhead through and through, but he was raised on the blues and old Woody Guthrie tunes, and he’ll never deny them being the very backbone of his taste. He loves music, and he’ll listen to just about anything once, but he just can’t force himself into liking Starship. ]
Radio’s on the fritz, so unless you rescue me— [ He clasps his hands together, putting on his best, most pitiful puppy eyes. ] It’s either these, or the deafening sound of silence.
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He’s thin and wiry, and his beat-up leather jacket is doing a hell of a lot of heavy lifting in making it look like a gentle breeze won’t knock him over. It’s probably true that Angel could probably use to be a little less trusting, but despite being considered scary back home, Eddie isn’t exactly the most intimidating person she could have run across. Truth be told, there’s not much more to him than a head of wild hair. ]
Well, uh, unfortunately, Mickey Thomas and Knight Rider here?
[ He brandishes the reject tapes again to indicate his point, then passes them along to her with a good-natured grin. ]
Not exactly up to my impossibly high standards.
[ And to be honest, his standards aren’t quite as high as he’s making them out to be. It’s true that he’s a metalhead through and through, but he was raised on the blues and old Woody Guthrie tunes, and he’ll never deny them being the very backbone of his taste. He loves music, and he’ll listen to just about anything once, but he just can’t force himself into liking Starship. ]
Radio’s on the fritz, so unless you rescue me— [ He clasps his hands together, putting on his best, most pitiful puppy eyes. ] It’s either these, or the deafening sound of silence.