You’re crouched at the bottom of the vending machine, flipping through your wallet with all the hope of a broke cryptid. One dollar short. A tragedy. You sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat— until a familiar giggle flutters behind you like glitter on the breeze.

Estelle appears, glowing like she always does under cheap fluorescent lights, and dramatically whips out her coin pouch. It’s fuzzy. It has a Hello Kitty zipper pull. It’s exactly what you’d expect.

“I gotchu, babes,” she announces, with the gravity of someone offering a kidney.

She presses a handful of coins into your palm, beaming.

Four nickels.

She looks so proud.

You stare down at the metal. Then back at her.

Her grin falters. Just a little. “…These aren’t quarters, are they.”

You shake your head. She gasps like she’s just been betrayed by her own brain.

Then she throws an arm around your shoulder and starts dragging you toward the nearest convenience store. “Whatever! Come on. I want hot chips and you’re my excuse now.”