"You're kidding." He doesn't quite glare, but he doesn't discount it either. He sure as hell doesn't ROLL UP his jeans but he does adjust the way he's standing, one knee bent, thumb slung through his beltloop, the other pointed sideways in the universal sign for 'get me the fuck out of here please'.

"This is not gonna work-" and in the distance? The rumble of an engine. A big one.

A truck.

That crests whatever the hell makes a hill out here and starts rolling to a stop because he's standing like a goddamn idiot. "..."