It’s 1975. Movies like Convoy and White Line Fever make trucking look like a wild, glamorous ride—but you know that’s pure Hollywood BS. Kinda like Vietnam was for a couple of you. 

After the oil embargo, Uncle Jess and Aunt Jodie left their adopted kids, Reggie and Sunshine, a shiny 1973 Mack Supersleeper semi-truck and the family business in the will. What didn’t they mention? It’s buried in debt and leveraged six ways to Sunday with some very unfriendly Vegas loan sharks. And it’s not just the kids—the business keeps a few close friends afloat too.

For six months, y’all have hustled to scrape and driven to pay it back, but time’s nearly up. You’re still deep in debt, and the loan sharks want their money—in 12 days flat—or they’re coming for more than just the truck. Capisce?

Lucky break: you got a tip. If you need fast money—and don’t care what you’re hauling—someone named Ms. Sabine (her name’s whispered in trucker circles) is paying BIG for a rush job.

All you gotta do is head to an old nickel refinery off mile marker 42, ready to roll. The password? There ain’t one. Just bring a six-pack of Schlitz, some Hostess Snowballs (the pink kind), and the latest issue of Balls and Sockets Monthly. Classy.

With no other options, y’all find the place and pull into the refinery. It looks sketchy as hell—rusted pickups, half-dead floodlights, and shotguns in the hands of guys who haven’t blinked since Nixon resigned. A German Shepherd the size of a bear snarls on its chain. A sign above the main door reads “No Exit.” They wave you into a slot next to an old Peterbilt and some trailers.

Time to make a deal.
The clock’s ticking.
You only have days to save your skins.

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