"Sand it down, and draw the detailing we discussed. Then put the substrate down over the rest of the vehicle and chrome plate it."
"That's an awful lot of chrome, wouldn't silver paint be easier?"
"Sanchez, I want chrome, got it. And I want you to upgrade the computer with more memory and an internet connection."
"Yes, sir, you'll be able to download movies," Sanchez nodded.
"That's my plan x-rated drive-in theater. Heh, heh. Oh, and I want the interior reupholstered silver to match the exterior. It's going to look like a spaceship when you're done."
Chrome plate me? Wire me for internet porn? What the fuck! I gotta tell Sanchez that I'm really a human being! Oh, please turn on the radio, so I can talk to you.
"Now pop the radio out, I want to make sure that I get a new one that fits."
"They're all pretty standard, but sure."
Sanchez grabbed a screw driver and reached under the dash.
No. Please. No.
In a matter of seconds, Chad's vocal chords were removed. Jason grinned at the radio in his hands, He handed Erik Sanchez the key to the car, and patted him on the back, "I'll be back Monday. I'm sure it will look great."
"Not sure if it will be ready by Monday, Snake. We have to let the paint dry before we can apply the coats of chrome plating. And if I can dye the interior silver, it might be ready late Monday, but to reupholster it will take at least a week."
Snake frowned, "Other options, I really want the car by Tuesday at the latest. Hot date," he winked.
"Well, it might cost a bit more, but I can probably get silver bucket seats and maybe a silver console from our salvage web, and that with overnight shipping, we could have it ready Monday."
"Fine rip out the seats and dash and get me a space ship interior."
"Yes, sir." Erik grinned, He liked being given carte blanche, and he would pad the cost to give him some extra profit for the trouble. "I'll get to work on getting your new seats and dash. Raul will prep the car and start sanding it."
Later that night, Snake hooked up the car radio to a battery, and tuned in Chad. Chad was sobbing and groaning in agony. Pleading to his unhearing attacker to stop sanding off his skin.
Snake leaned back in his chair, and put his feet up next to the radio. He grinned broadly. I was good to own Chad. After about twenty minutes of this, Snake finally said something.
"So, it hurts, Chad?"
"Snake? Gawd, does it hurt. Please I'll do whatever you say, just make it stop."
"They must be almost done, so you might as well let them finish, or when I change you back you'll be skinless. You want that?"
"The paint's my skin? Ow! Oh, ar-argh, Huh, chrome's not paint, what will that do to me."
"We'll find out soon enough. Now for some music," Snake said reaching for the preset buttons on the radio.
"No- puh-leas-" Chad started to plead, but his voice was replaced by Depeche Mode on the Classic Alternative channel belting out "Master & Servant."
Chad could no longer hear Snake, but he could hear Depeche Mode. He was the servant, and Snake was his master. Damn, Snake!