It's ideal, really, that she doesn't mind working with material that's a little past its sell-by date. He certainly can't do the job with any accuracy - and this might be a problem they run into again.

If she's still here in a week or two, that is. He's not convinced she will be.

"It's my first, too," he admits, and maybe he'd go on to make an even worse joke, but the radio scrambles. And it scrambles loudly, going across stations and making an awful racket, no matter what dial he turns.

It's unbearable and unfixable - until he pulls onto the shoulder and turns off the car. And it's notable. Time to get out and grab the spray paint.