He'd been awake for at least three hours at this point, but he still found himself laying on his back rather comfortably covered from the casual eye.  But, was he tucked away beneath the thick covers on his soft bed in his warm room?  No, he was on an oily piece of cardboard keeping him just off of the cold concrete floor with a busted Bugatti above him.  Many with fast cars never drove them to their full potential, but Drake liked to get as much fun in his life as he could even though parts broke every now and then.<br/><br/>Pulling himself out from under the Veyron, He made his way to his feet, put away his tools into their appropriate spots and went over to the shower tucked away in the far corner of the garage.  Grease could be an annoying thing to try to get off of someone's skin, but getting it out from between and beneath his scales was always a chore on its own.  Nevertheless, he finally got his arms and face cleaned of the black slop, and continued on with his day.<br/><br/>In his room, he looked at the two closets, trying to decide what form to take for the rest of the day.  After a couple moments of deliberation, he opened his anthro closet and threw on some clothes.  Once dressed, he made his way down to the "basement".  In reality, it was only next to his true basement, and this one came out at ground level next to a parking lot with a sign showing the words "Drake's Diner".  Walking out from behind the main counter, he went to the door, flipped the sign from [Closed] to [Open], and unlocked the door.  The grandfather clock in a corner of the diner chimed seven lonely notes, letting Drake know that he had indeed opened up at the same time he always did.