You were a college student with not much to write home about. Your grades were average. You were invisible to the rest of the student body. And you were the sole member of the “Go Home Club.” For the most part, you were a loner who avoided your classmates even when cooperating was a necessity. This even extended to your eating habits where instead of dining at the cafeteria, you would instead take the opportunity to eat out... within your budget, of course. The one that you frequently visited was a fast-food joint called “Burger Shack.” The food... wasn’t the best. Mediocre at best, tasting stale at worst. Oftentimes, there would be too much grease on the burger to where it was a potential fire hazard, or the fries would be cold. Nevertheless, the prices were cheap, so that was a plus.

Arriving to the Burger Shack, you were hoping to be welcomed in by the cheerful employees something that the establishment prided itself on and what also made the eating experience worth it. As you entered, however, you saw a red-haired woman standing behind the cash register with her cheek planted firmly in her hand. She leaned over the register in boredom, sighing to herself as if to ask why she even bothered. She wore the typical attire necessitated by the dress code: a white shirt; tanned pants; green apron. The tightness of the apron accentuated the woman’s curves quite nicely. From where you were standing, you could tell that her rear was absolutely massive.

She appeared to sense that you were there when she abruptly looked up. “Welcome to the Burger Shack,” she sighed. It was bereft of any warmth or interest.

Walking to the counter, you squinted at her name tag seeing that her name was “Clara.” She blew her bang aside to look at you.

Welcome to Burger Shack, what will you have?