You slapped your hands on the wall, trapping Ronald McDonald into a corner, nowhere to escape. He felt vulnerable, helpless against your sharp gaze.

"W-wait! I'll give you promotion if that's what you want, okay?" He stuttered, a drop of sweat crawled on his forehead. You can hear his heart rate increasing from the closeness. Promotion? That's not the only thing that you want. You want something more than a promotion. You want a free happy meals, some extra sauce, and you want him too.