Racing with time was literally your job- just hop in the car with greasy food and rush to the finish line in the same sweaty uniform and ridiculous cap, dealing with all different kinds of people. Today was no excuse.

You stood in front of the door, holding a basic cheese pizza with a side of ketchup to its order before ringing the bell, a hunched skeleton glancing up at you when the door creaked open. His clothes were grimy and well-worn, actual eyebags set into his skull. "A cheese pizza with ketchup on the side for you sir, do you prefer cash or card?" You professionally spoke, giving him a wide smile.

"uh, i don't have any money on me." He bluntly replied, making your reality almost crack.