Eddie's music career is going great in the sense that he's getting booked for gigs and not-so-great in the sense that those gigs are children's birthday parties.
At least the kids like his tattoos, he thinks as he's carrying his equipment is it to his van where - "That's a dog."
"That's a dog," He repeats to no one in particular because there is a dog in his front seat. "There's a dog committing grand theft auto."
Eddie is slow in approach as he inches towards the van but the dog just happily sits there content as can be. Eddie is pretty sure he's not high. He never smokes before a gig but this is just...surreal.
The dog has his paws on the steering wheel.
Eddie swears it just looked in the rear view mirror.
As if this moment couldn't get any weirder, some Cary Grant motherfucker in running shoes rounds the van. He puts his big hands on his hips and whisper hisses through the window, "Get out of there! Stranger danger. You can't just get in someone's shitty kidnapper van because-"
"Hey," Eddie frowns. "Betsy is a classic."
"I- oh my god," He swears, gesturing towards the dog. "He - he just likes cars, ya know. He likes to sit in them which is just...not great given that he's a dog and they have a...history?
The man stops rambling and then says, "I’m Steve."
"I mean, I'm Eddie," He corrects. "And if your pup doesn't want to get out of my van, you can get in it. We can go for a drive."
Steve raises an eyebrow at him.
Eddie is expecting Steve to say that there is no way that he's getting into a car with a stranger but, "Yeah, sure."