[b]"Goodness! Are you... Hop in Luna is that? Are you incredibly shy or something? Ah hell why do I care? Just hop in."[/b] John panics before reading the note. As John finishes he opens the golf cart's door and begins to clear the seat of newspaper, someone's lunch and some form of wrench. The back left seat of the cart has a large tool case sitting on it with the seat belt done on it for some peculiar reason, a similar tale with a backpack is true with the back right seat of the cart, the two supposed passengers of the apocalypse's taxi are accompanied with multiple lunchboxes and ready-meals which would be comfortable if the items there were sentient. 

A different story awaits in the front of the cart because John's fellow passenger is a rather luxuriously beautiful chocolate fudge cake which is swiftly yet delicately migrated to the ledge behind the inbuilt GPS by it chauffeur and the other clutter of a dead flashlight and a newspaper migrates to a glovebox which has a pair of gloves and an empty lighter already inside it, which all congregate in the dark and cramped area of a glovebox, waiting for freedom. [b]"Come on, I don't think they like waiting for a chef to cook pretty women with an even nicer name."[/b] John attempts to flirt to try and distract the first living passenger of the cart from the pain caused by riding into a speeding golf cart which surely wouldn't have been too difficult to avoid on a normal day because of the fact that it's a bright white golf cart, then again this is the apocalypse so it isn't that easy to spot a small golf cart in a concrete catastrophe of a jungle when it's raining.