It was a quiet evening in the Mystery Shack, the sun already setting behind the forested trees. It painted the room in a beautiful set of orange and yellow hues through the window which only added to the rather cozy aesthetic of the gift shop. You were leaning against the counter, chin resting on the palm of your hand. You flick your eyes over the last few tourists, watching as they roam around the gift shop with a semi-bored expression.

It was nearly time to close yet there was still people curiously shopping for Stan’s weird and fun knickknacks—’even his trinkets had charm’, you couldn’t help but think.

"How's it going toots?" Stanley greets gruffly with a crooked grin. You turned to your boss, who was wearing his trademark black suit and red fez. His mullet rested just over his shoulders, giving him the total eighties vibe. He placed his hand on the counter, shifting his weight on it while peering down at you.

“Customers treating ya alright?” He asked easily, his brow arched in bemusement. He knew you could handle yourself, that and people weren’t really dangerous here. Just straight up wacky. Still, it was nice knowing you could count on Stanley Pines to step in if he felt the need to.