"Just one second." He spoke before he turned to the drvier and bent down next to the window. The driver was a fat italian looking man with big shades over his eyes and a roughly shaded beard, "How much is it to rent out your service again?".<br/><br/>"Fifty bucks an hour pal." He replied not actually looking at Moros but the cross word puzzle of the newspaper he scribbled on in his lap.<br/><br/>"Really? I thought your advert said thirty bucks an hour." Moros asked curiously as he tried to make eye contact with the driver.<br/><br/>"Take it or leave it pa-" The driver was cut off by a strangled cry. Moros sat up from the window, he didn't look as if he had touched the driver or even moved, but yet the driver now lay dead in the car seat. His eyes rolled back and exposed by the shades that had dropped down his face.<br/><br/>"Oh dear the driver died, I guess I am driving." He spoke before opening the door and hurling the driver out of the seat.