A hand goes up to run across his scalp, shorn with razors and radiation alike. The visage of the Immortan-- that's what he's got. A brand. It's something a little tainted now, because he thinks about all sorts of things he doesn't want to think about when he's alone and remembering the Citadel. To look the part of a War Boy when you aren't really one anymore, that's weird. Nux doesn't know anything else, so there's a sense of pride when the compliment hits: I like your head. Really, does he? Nux grins wide as acceptance of the comment.

Finally he lets go the hat brim after rolling it through his palm, having sufficiently touched it enough for now. Cole or Coal is quiet and seems uncertain. Nux digs his nearest had into the cup holder as he turns in his seat, grabbing keys and jamming them into the ignition. It's great because he didn't even have to hotwire this magnificent beast, this untouched vehicle of a make he wasn't familiar with and could only guess. Mercedes? Anyway, the keys were already there, and he'd been just as fascinated with how clean and straight they were. No sequences required. Generally War Boys were not given such treasures.

It's shifted to drive but kept braked as he presses a boot on the pedal, making the car growl to life. Swings his head toward Cole with more of that manic smirk; that'd help anyone, wouldn't it? "Guts full of guzzo and ready to go for hours!" Hours, at least hours. Nux is enthralled with all these finds he's had today.