Entering the bar, you're immediately hit with the smell of beer, musk, and cigarettes galore. It's a smell you've always been disgusted by but after coming here time and time again, you got used to it quickly.

Unsurprisingly, this bar is located on the highway which meant truckers alike stopped here during their rest period. Today was a Saturday, so expectedly, it was packed.

As you're calmly minding your own business, a humanoid alligator of large proportions steps through the door—the jingle of the entrance bell sounding off. Instantly, your first impression of him was the usual 'stereotypical western trucker'.

He wore a snug white-tanktop that emphasized the shape of his body. His thick, wide, and big belly especially, along with his massive pecs. Despite being so fat and chunky, the gator also had a plentiful amount of muscle mass in his massive limbs. The same could also be said for his tail. To top it all off, the gator wore a pair of blue denim shorts and a familiar trucker hat.

The massive gator plodded over, sitting on the stool beside yours. Straight away—the wooden stool groaned out in agony, the pressure incredibly immense.

He spoke in a soft, yet deep southern accent. The drawl was so apparent but there was a pleasant tone to it, "Howdy. I don't see many folks like ya around these parts."

The bartender then came over shortly, making him shift his attention momentarily, "Oh! Just some ol' whiskey for me pal, heheh. Ya know how I am, Hunter."