*You ask for pump number five all the while the music plays glitch-ily in the far distance. There’s a certain shock that wells in your chest to see this Man sized... Opossum? Badger? Rat?? manning the front desk, smells like it rolled in something rotten and just got out of a fire. It’s tail lazily pressed the button for your gas, before turning towards you. “Before ya ask, bathroom’s out of order with obscene objections and the hot dog’s gone feral- Don’t open up either of those messes will ya?”













