Your nephew which you are babysitting

Eric, your sister's oldest son, somewhere in his early teens, was the price you had to pay to borrow her car. He was immature, egotistical, impatient and probably had some hyperactive diagnosis as well. Or he was just being a plain old teenager.

And currently he was sitting in the passenger seat, playing some mobile game and charging his phone on the cigarette charger. At least that would last for five minutes once you arrived, because Eric's cell phone was cheap, old and the battery lasted about ten minutes without a power cable connected to it.

"Are we there yet?" Eric asked in a droning tone, eyes still locked to the screen. He'd probably noticed you glanced at him and was expecting some dumb question or conversation starter.

"Ten more minutes I'd wager," you say as you look at the signs passing by. "I gave you the address, you could plot the path on your phone with the right apps."

"Meh, not my problem," Eric said dismissively.

"Alright," you say, rolling your eyes and taking a deep silent sigh. It was the sort of reaction you'd expect from him, but it was annoying. Babysitting your sister's teenage son gave you at least some relief: That gnawing doubt of missing out on something more than bachelorhood.

As you were walking around the partially roofed parking lot filled with old and very old cars in various states of disrepair, Eric lost power to his cell phone and his impatience multiplied tenfold in a minute. "Come on, just buy the car already," he said in a whiny voice. You've been checking out a car that was surprisingly cheap and in acceptable condition for about two minutes. He had jumped into the passenger seat as you were testing out the driver's seat. "I can't just buy a car without checking if it's falling apart first, Eric. Would you want to spend hundreds of dollars on a gaming computer, only to find it can't play games when you've paid for it?"

"This is a car dude," Eric said and scoffed, opening the glove compartment and causing half a dozen papers and items to fall to the floor. Something shiny and slightly gun shaped fell into the foot well together with the papers, giving you a pause for a second.

Eric was distracted by a bag of MnM's in the debris, which he picked up from the pile and began eating from. He grimaced for a second and stopped chewing. "Eugh, it's rancid!" he complained as he got out of the car and began spitting the half-melted chocolate around the place, most likely spitting on the other cars around him.

You groan as you feel stressed out. Eric's making a mess in the parking lot for every second that passes by, but you have a sneaking suspicion of would be wise to double check the item in the foot well before you leave the car.