Caius stood, half bent over the open hood of a wrecked Chryslus Coupe on the side of the road, examining the contents within for salvagable materials. He chewed idly on a reed, running a hand over his untrimmed jaw, musing for a moment over parts and retrieval methods. The man hmms for a moment, deciding on the simplest answer to both, specifically, the entire engine, and by yanking. Cracking his neck, back, knuckles, and other extremities, the man tosses his jacket and shirt aside as he shifts to a steadier lifting position. He spits into his rough, callused hands, and bends, gripping the hunk of steel by the bottom, groaning with exertion as he slowly wrenches it from the car. His powerful back muscles rippled as he hoisted the engine, his scar ridden body glistening with sweat in the scorching Mojave sun. He lets out a long, labored grunt, trudging over to his boss' pack brahmin. Caius sets the engine down on the cart, exhaling a sigh of relief, wiping his brow. He turns to his employer, saying with all the loving sarcasm and vitriol he can, "Thaaaanks for the help boss, did you at least enjoy the show?"

Mildred rolled her brown eyes at the remark, crossing her arms as she fired back a retort. "I hired you to be handsome and lift things, not snark at me."

"Think of it as me going above and beyond my job description; plus, you know you loooove my constant acerbic remarks!"

"I should've rearmed that bomb collar when I had the chance..."

Caius snickers, pleased with the reaction. Ribbing Mildred was one of the main perks of this job, and, besides, they both know his bomb collar was long since defused by the time she "hired" (bought) him. He pulls on his shirt and jacket, wiping his hands off on the side of the pack beast. He sighs, glancing back towards the old automobile, leaning against the merchandise cart. "It's a shame that Chryslus couldn't be fixed, it'd be nice to not have to hoof it all the way to Freeside from Nipton Highway."

The short woman scoffed, patting her old brahmin's head, drawling; "And what would happen to old Janey, huh? No way in hell I'm leaving her behind, she's been in the family longer than I have!"

Caius furrows his brow, glancing at Janey. "Your brahmin's a freak boss, she's only got one head. Brahmin are dumb enough on their own, I don't want to know how bad they get with literally half the brains."

Mildred gasps, horrified he would DARE say such a thing, covering Janey's ears and shouting. "How could you say that about her! You take that back, or I'll, I'll, uh..."

Caius' dark skinned features form a smug grin as he watches Mildred stammer. "Or what? You're a foot shorter than me, and, in case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of buff as all hell?" As if to emphasize remark, he flexes one arm, his bicep seemingly threatening to tear his leather jacket's sleeve.

The woman fumed, now offended on her, AND Janey's behalf. Caius DID have a point though, everyone seems short when they're next to a 6'6" mountain of a man, and, even if it came to a test of firearms, Mildred wasn't even a fantastic shot. All she had left to use against him is her razor sharp wit. "Yeah well, your, your hair is dumb!"

Now it was Caius' turn to be shocked. He defensively puts his hands to his hair, genuinely taken aback. It took him a lot of effort to manage a windswept look, while at the same time maintaining a single dreadlock down its right side; ESPECIALLY considering the Mojave Wastes aren't exactly known for their abundance of barbershops. He huffs, but, lacking the ability to come up with a sufficient counter, he relents.

Mildred, pleased as punch with herself, adjusts both her and Janey's sunhats, and hitches the cart back up to her beast of burden. "Now that our daily verbal sparring match is out of the way, ONWARD, to profit! There's gotta be SOMEONE who'll buy this hunk of metal!" And with that, she marches off, towards Freeside, and, more importantly; towards potential customers, leaving poor Caius to choke on the dust their cart kicked up.