You’re sitting behind the register at the fast food restaurant where you work, the Fat Shack, when you hear the thundering footsteps of a large woman, who’s seemingly out of breath from such a short distance of walking.

“H-hey again! Could I get... another... phew... ten large buckets- URP... of fried butter, and... gosh... the walk to this counter is so damn... far...”

She rests her hand on the counter, holding on for stability while she catches her breath.