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Description
At long last, Anna has finally gathered the money she needs to buy her way to the right to use a welder from an auto repair shop located a fair distance away from her squat so she can build herself the wheelchair of her dreams.

Once she's done gulping down a can of cheap beer she was handed down by a random girl roughly her age the other day, she wastes no time strapping the wrecked hospital chair to her trusty wheelboard with a loose TV cable and scoots off to the shop, hoping the mechanic won't give her too much of a headache. On arrival, she calls him out:

"Uh, excuse me sir?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind if I borrowed something from you? I can pay for it, I promise!"

"What?"

"That welder. I need it for a few hours so I can fix my wheelchair. I worked in a garage befor-"

"Go be someone else's problem, business is already slow enough without some bum coming in and ask me to slap their trash back together!"

"Well thanks for nothing, fuckface!"

Dead silence ensues as they kept staring at one another in frustration for a while. The mechanic sighs and begrudgingly explains:

"Okay kid, I admit that was a little uh...uncalled for. But you see, last time I trusted street scum with something I almost ended up closing this place!"

"But how can you be so certain that every homeless out there is necessarily out to screw you over? I mean, I've been screwed over myself for most of my life so what would I gain from doing the same to you?"

"Maybe you're different. Maybe you're not here to make off with my money, money that I need to keep the lights on. But the thing is...That fucking war...Ever since that went down...It's become just that much harder to trust people with anything."

"So I guess we're done here?"

"Actually...Not quite. Since I suspect that you're gonna be a pain in the ass to me if I tell you to piss off a second time and since you say you have some money to throw my way for the favor, why don't you pull yourself up that chair in the corner and let me show you why they call me "The Metal Midas"?"

Anna then struggled to contain a hearty chuckle she got out of the repair guy's self-aggrandizing attitude, but quickly reminded herself to transfer to the chair in the corner. As he examined the pile of scrap he's meant to work on, his attention diverted to her limp, underdeveloped, almost childlike legs. This prompted him to remark: "Okay kiddo, looks like some departures from the usual designs are in order. Stay where you are and keep watching what's happening outside, 'cause this will take a while!"

"Wait, you worked on wheelchairs in the pas-"

"We'll talk when I'm done, okay?"

"Okay, okay, sure."

He then proceeds to the workshop, dragging the scrapped wheelchair along with the welder sat atop it. After what seemed like an entire afternoon, the mechanic emerges with the same wheelchair except that it now looks very far removed from what it once was, taking on a three-wheeled configuration and sporting a generally more compact stature, along with footrests improvised from what used to be its armrests and set unusually high in order to accommodate Anna's crippled little legs.

"See kid? I told ya I knew just the thing you need!"

Anna couldn't believe her eyes: Turns out, he knows his way around not just cars, but basically anything with wheels!

"What, you seriously thought I'd just let you take that welder only to build yourself a death trap?"

"I-uh...no? I mean..."

"You'll thank me later. Now where's my money?"

"Th-There..."

The mechanic flicks through the small stack of crumpled banknotes Anna handed him. Much to her surprise, he returned two of those rather than pocketing them all.

"You look like you're one missed meal away from kicking the bucket. Here, put a tuna sandwich in your gut or something!"

"OH! Th-thanks! By the way-"

"Huh?"

"Not to overstay my welcome but...I wanted to ask...if you worked on wheelchairs before this."

"No. However, I was surrounded by wheelchairs before. During the war, I was enlisted to help with building field hospitals wherever they needed one. And then one day, out of either curiosity or boredom, I looked up the word "wheelchair" on the Internet...Damn, the R&D that goes in some of those things really got me paying attention as someone with an engineering degree."

"Then why did you go with auto repair instead?"

"The market for active wheelchairs is a rather slow one so I had to start with something more likely to make its money back in time. And even then I'm barely breaking even over the last four months."

"Oh...By the way, who was that homeless man you claim ripped you off?"

"Ugh, where do I even start...That was around the time this shop started to net me some pretty decent profits. I was saving up to move to America when one day, that tramp gave me his little sob story and promised that whatever money I gave him to keep food in his backpack, he'll give back when it's time. And of course young naïve me obliged. Fast forward now and I'm still out of money I need now more than ever...So much for being a good Samaritan, eh?"

"So that's why you want nothing to do with someone like me, whether they can pay you or not? That's a little short-sighted if you ask me."

"Maybe so. But you know, fool me once and all that. In fact, the only reason I accepted your offer is because...You really are different. And not in the obvious ways either."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I told you off and we gave each other that nasty stare...There was something about the way you looked at me...I don't know what it was but I know it made me to understand that unlike those freeloaders before you, you actually meant every single word you just said. And I love that in people, more than anything else. Honesty is best policy, after all!"

"Why thank you for the ringing endorsement!"

"I'm being serious though..."

"Sorry...I'm just too used to speaking sarcastically..."

"Don't sweat it. Anyways, I'm almost done for today, how do you want to carry that cart now that you have a wheelchair?"

"Old cable under it. Use that to strap it to the chair."

"You got it. Aaaand there! Now roll outta here and have that tuna sandwich on Metal Midas!"

Anna smiled at the man and did as he told her with her heart all warm and fuzzy from finally getting the one thing she wanted so much, earning the respect of someone initially dismissive of her in so doing.

"Well, that's one hell of a story to share with the boys down at the Pit as we pass the bottle!", she gleefully thinks to herself as she wheels off into the sunset.

Description
At long last, Anna has finally gathered the money she needs to buy her way to the right to use a welder from an auto repair shop located a fair distance away from her squat so she can build herself the wheelchair of her dreams.

Once she's done gulping down a can of cheap beer she was handed down by a random girl roughly her age the other day, she wastes no time strapping the wrecked hospital chair to her trusty wheelboard with a loose TV cable and scoots off to the shop, hoping the mechanic won't give her too much of a headache. On arrival, she calls him out:

"Uh, excuse me sir?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind if I borrowed something from you? I can pay for it, I promise!"

"What?"

"That welder. I need it for a few hours so I can fix my wheelchair. I worked in a garage befor-"

"Go be someone else's problem, business is already slow enough without some bum coming in and ask me to slap their trash back together!"

"Well thanks for nothing, fuckface!"

Dead silence ensues as they kept staring at one another in frustration for a while. The mechanic sighs and begrudgingly explains:

"Okay kid, I admit that was a little uh...uncalled for. But you see, last time I trusted street scum with something I almost ended up closing this place!"

"But how can you be so certain that every homeless out there is necessarily out to screw you over? I mean, I've been screwed over myself for most of my life so what would I gain from doing the same to you?"

"Maybe you're different. Maybe you're not here to make off with my money, money that I need to keep the lights on. But the thing is...That fucking war...Ever since that went down...It's become just that much harder to trust people with anything."

"So I guess we're done here?"

"Actually...Not quite. Since I suspect that you're gonna be a pain in the ass to me if I tell you to piss off a second time and since you say you have some money to throw my way for the favor, why don't you pull yourself up that chair in the corner and let me show you why they call me "The Metal Midas"?"

Anna then struggled to contain a hearty chuckle she got out of the repair guy's self-aggrandizing attitude, but quickly reminded herself to transfer to the chair in the corner. As he examined the pile of scrap he's meant to work on, his attention diverted to her limp, underdeveloped, almost childlike legs. This prompted him to remark: "Okay kiddo, looks like some departures from the usual designs are in order. Stay where you are and keep watching what's happening outside, 'cause this will take a while!"

"Wait, you worked on wheelchairs in the pas-"

"We'll talk when I'm done, okay?"

"Okay, okay, sure."

He then proceeds to the workshop, dragging the scrapped wheelchair along with the welder sat atop it. After what seemed like an entire afternoon, the mechanic emerges with the same wheelchair except that it now looks very far removed from what it once was, taking on a three-wheeled configuration and sporting a generally more compact stature, along with footrests improvised from what used to be its armrests and set unusually high in order to accommodate Anna's crippled little legs.

"See kid? I told ya I knew just the thing you need!"

Anna couldn't believe her eyes: Turns out, he knows his way around not just cars, but basically anything with wheels!

"What, you seriously thought I'd just let you take that welder only to build yourself a death trap?"

"I-uh...no? I mean..."

"You'll thank me later. Now where's my money?"

"Th-There..."

The mechanic flicks through the small stack of crumpled banknotes Anna handed him. Much to her surprise, he returned two of those rather than pocketing them all.

"You look like you're one missed meal away from kicking the bucket. Here, put a tuna sandwich in your gut or something!"

"OH! Th-thanks! By the way-"

"Huh?"

"Not to overstay my welcome but...I wanted to ask...if you worked on wheelchairs before this."

"No. However, I was surrounded by wheelchairs before. During the war, I was enlisted to help with building field hospitals wherever they needed one. And then one day, out of either curiosity or boredom, I looked up the word "wheelchair" on the Internet...Damn, the R&D that goes in some of those things really got me paying attention as someone with an engineering degree."

"Then why did you go with auto repair instead?"

"The market for active wheelchairs is a rather slow one so I had to start with something more likely to make its money back in time. And even then I'm barely breaking even over the last four months."

"Oh...By the way, who was that homeless man you claim ripped you off?"

"Ugh, where do I even start...That was around the time this shop started to net me some pretty decent profits. I was saving up to move to America when one day, that tramp gave me his little sob story and promised that whatever money I gave him to keep food in his backpack, he'll give back when it's time. And of course young naïve me obliged. Fast forward now and I'm still out of money I need now more than ever...So much for being a good Samaritan, eh?"

"So that's why you want nothing to do with someone like me, whether they can pay you or not? That's a little short-sighted if you ask me."

"Maybe so. But you know, fool me once and all that. In fact, the only reason I accepted your offer is because...You really are different. And not in the obvious ways either."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I told you off and we gave each other that nasty stare...There was something about the way you looked at me...I don't know what it was but I know it made me to understand that unlike those freeloaders before you, you actually meant every single word you just said. And I love that in people, more than anything else. Honesty is best policy, after all!"

"Why thank you for the ringing endorsement!"

"I'm being serious though..."

"Sorry...I'm just too used to speaking sarcastically..."

"Don't sweat it. Anyways, I'm almost done for today, how do you want to carry that cart now that you have a wheelchair?"

"Old cable under it. Use that to strap it to the chair."

"You got it. Aaaand there! Now roll outta here and have that tuna sandwich on Metal Midas!"

Anna smiled at the man and did as he told her with her heart all warm and fuzzy from finally getting the one thing she wanted so much, earning the respect of someone initially dismissive of her in so doing.

"Well, that's one hell of a story to share with the boys down at the Pit as we pass the bottle!", she gleefully thinks to herself as she wheels off into the sunset.