Donnie sputters at that. "Prerecorded?! How do we even know whoever made them still exists? Or exists at all?" He groans, dragging his hands over his face at the thought of being someone else's experiment. He's already dodged that bullet and yet here they are. Possibly. It still sucks, do not want.

"Crowbar would work, but too heavy for what I'm used to doing. Same deal with pipes, but if I find either or, I can make it work." He's turned a garden hoe into a bō once, after all.

At least poking around for something he can use as a weapon helps give him something to do. It's still a strange place to wake up in, but at least a garage like this should have plenty of things to make use of. Unless of course, it's been picked clean.

"So is there anyone else out here? Locals, I mean."