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Julie is sitting behind the counter at her eponymously-named Uncle Sal's Garage, lights are on inside and out as the somewhat old-fashioned-looking gas pumps are apparently open for business. Once some kind of urban car dealership and service center, the place near the East River edge of Little Italy has several garage bays leading out back onto some sort of alleyway, despite having a few floors of flats built on upper levels. What's left of the showroom sports a baby-blue Ford Falcon wagon with the hood open, and the girl behind the counter is poring over some sort of technical manual, a beige cat snoozing on the counter's edge.
Pick a fancy British-made car. For Silver Sablinova - Princess and CEO - it is undoubtedly the Jaguar E-Type that's her favourite. Probably because they happily painted it a silver for her. The colour is something of a trademark for her when it comes to appearance. Always silver. Always, always. It is her name, after all. She has to market it somehow! But that fancy car pulls into Uncle Sal's, no doubt not something just anyone would expect to see. And the Princess herself slides out of the ("wrong") side of the car, a fancy silver-grey pantsuit on, because she gave up on skirts and dresses long ago.
Jags… Popular with the wealthy set just lately, and for reasons. Because actually good. Dizzy's been seeing quite a few of those lately, if not so much in the old neighborhood at this hour, and might actually be expecting someone else. She's got ways of knowing a familiar engine type when she senses one, as it happens, so is glancing up and tilting her head when this one turns out to be silver. She waits a moment unless it's pulled up to a pump, though, in which case she comes on out.
She walks right up to the counter. Some of her breeding would no doubt have an imperious tone to their voice, something in their walk. She does not - at least, not without proper reason, and frankly this is neither the time nor the place. She smiles, but it's not… not really a full smile. Maybe just the corners of her mouth. "I've been told this garage has the best mechanics in the city," she says. "A client recommended this place. Someone did work on her car and her husband's," she explains.
The young lady behind the counter, well, as blue-collar as one might expect, her accent local and Italian-tinged, "Well, we always like a nice referral, but there's no sense making a competition out of it," she winks. Given the side she exited from, that one must have been brought across the pond, …sure to have the triple carbs, therefore. "That silver lady out there needing some attention, then? They get a bit tricky about balancing the carbs, but we've been starting to see a few."
Silver gestures back to the car. "She's been having some trouble. Just took her out of storage after having her shipped over. I understand it's quite late, if you'd prefer I come back tomorrow I understand completely." She knows how she'd feel if someone popped by just before closing, after all.
Julie nods, and ahs. Oddly, whatever manual she's reading has what looks like the blueprints to some kind of turbine or jet engine drawn out in lines. "Ah, that could do it, storage, crossing an ocean, different gas, all kinds of things. How long was she in storage?" Adds, then, "And I guess I could have a listen while you're here, what kind of problems you having? Kind of assuming she's running a bit rough, cause that'll happen."
"Very rough. I'm sure you heard the noise as I came down the street." Silver does look curiously at the manual, but hey, how does she know what Julie does or doesn't understand? "She's been in storage for almost two years. I had someone look at her before the company shipped her over to me, but I'm beginning to doubt his qualifications."
Julie nods. "No telling, really, coulda been right when it left his shop and something got different between here and there. I guess let's have a quick look and we'll really check her out tomorrow. You gotten gas over here at all since she came off the boat?" She plucks up a green jacket much like the boys might wear around the place, a little oval nametag bearing the name 'Dizzy,' and then in turn a little tool-roll, and from a rack by the cash register, a little bottle of dry-gas.
"Just today," Silver says. "She was taken out last night, I drove her and made sure she was filled up. That's when the engine started rumbling in that odd way." It could've been worse - truthfully based on the sound Silver thought it ws much, much worse. Like someone she pissed off taking revenge, really.
Julie nods, then, "Probably just your mixture needs adjusting, then; let's get you in the ballpark to get you home for now and we'll give her a good looking over tomorrow. I guess don't chew out your Brit mechanic yet." She smiles a bit. Then leads on out, again. Waggles the little bottle, "This's just in case she was enjoying the sea air too much on the trip."
"I was wondering," she admits. Silver is good at a great many things, but automobile work, she knows the bare minimum. That's why she prefers handing over the reins to qualified mechanics. "I'm surprised, I didn't think many Americans knew much about cars from overseas."
Julie ahs, "I was over in California past couple years, we see a lotta these there, and word gets around. They're pretty hard to beat if you got the moolah, especially if you like to turn. Someone oughtta tell Detroit about these disc brakes, I figure." When she gets to the silver Jag, she shines what looks like a military-surplus angle-headed flashlight and pops the hood latches, then heaves the nose up and forward. Has a quick look around under there, and says, "Let's put er in neutral, and start her up. Be sure your brake's set."
With a nod, Silver slips around to the driver's side of her Jag, doing as requested. Brake set, car in neutral, and she slowly guns the engine. "Anything?" she calls over the noise of the motor. At least she didn't gun it?
Julie peers with her light, and calls out over the engine noise, "Just stay off the gas, I got it!" She pulls on a glove and just moves the throttle linkage from where she is, like magic, even, the engine runs at a few different speeds until she finds the roughness, then there's some turning of little tools until knocking roughness starts changing, then ceasing. There's three carbs, so it takes some fussing. Dizzy has a hidden advantage, though, getting the cylinders firing evenly, at least, and the car not-shaking. Goes back to the rear and fans a bit of exhaust towards her nose, fiddles again, then gives Silver a thumbs-up and a shut-her-down gesture.
And then like that, she turns off the car. "As you suspected, then?" she asks as she neatly slips out of the driver's seat for the second time. "The carbs?" She strolls around to see, exactly what may have been found. Or maybe she's just hoping for an explanation and the chance to learn something. Might prove useful when she's out with SHIELD stuff.
Julie nods, though she has a sniff at the engine oil while she's at it, from the filler cap or dipstick, "Yeah, probably gotta be most of it, at least." Rolls up the little toolkit, and points her light toward the rear, "If you see your exhaust a bit more than usual in the morning, don't worry about it, I got her set a bit rich for now, so's we don't do any damage till we do it right, she could wallow a bit if you try standing on it till then, but you just don't wanna lean out any of your cylinders on these." She points out the three carburetors, all in a row. "This is a real good setup, but they all gotta work together or you're nowheresville."
Silver nods. She understands that much, at least. "I appreciate you taking the time at this hour," she says. "Do you still think I should come back tomorrow?" Nobody will mind if the boss ducks out for a bit, anyhow. She is the boss. When she's not being a SHIELD agent, anyhow.
Julie nods, "Yeah, absolutely, crying shame to have a mill like this not putting out what she can, this'll just mean you don't have to worry till you do get back. May as well look over your points and all, too, flush out your fluids after she's been stored, if your guy in England didn't already do that." She adds, "Also these engines are a bit 'cold-blooded,' let er warm up a little bit before you start revving like that, gets the oil where it needs to be and all that."
Silver makes a mental note of the advice, nodding her head. "I'll do that. Any preference for when I should bring her by?" She doesn't add that the time really doesn't matter to her, she can clear her schedule as needed. She just figures it doesn't need to be said.
Julie hrms, "I guess any time of day you can give us a few hours. Depends what needs doing. If the English fellow wrote down what he did, it could speed things up." She heaves the nose of the car back to where it usually sits, walking around to the other side to lock it down, then back." She smiles a bit, "They got some funny hoods over there."
Silver offers a slight shrug in response. "I'll bring it by when you're open in the morning. From one pocket, she fishes out a business card. Silver Sablinova, it says, CEO of Silver Sable International. An auction house company, apparently. "You take your time, don't bump me in anywhere. Let me know when it's fixed. I can arrange transportation for myself until then."
Julie nods, peers at the card a bit under the light, …maybe the CEO bit raises an eyebrow, (funny enough as it may seem from a girl greasemonkey) then pockets it. "Arright, I'll let youse know if there's anything needs any real time, looks pretty good so far, though."