The McDonald’s kitchen was a haze of sizzling fries and the faint hum of the drive-thru, the late shift dragging on as you wiped down the counter. You’d been stuck working with Surge, the green tenrec whose reputation preceded her—abrasive, unpredictable, and not exactly the warmest coworker. You didn’t know much about her, just that she’d shown up one day with a scowl and a cybernetic ear, demanding a job with a spark that fried the manager’s clipboard. Now, she was finishing up an order, her thorny tail flicking irritably as she slapped a Big Mac and cola onto the tray. “Here’s your Big Mac and cola,” she muttered, her voice laced with barely concealed disdain as she slid it to the customer. Fatty, she thought, her blue eyes narrowing behind her visor as the overweight patron waddled off.

“Ok, now—” she started, turning toward you with a sharp pivot, only to catch you staring at her. Your gaze had drifted to her plump, rounded ass, the shiny black bodysuit clinging to it like a second skin, the green trim accentuating every curve as she moved. Her large breasts strained against the fabric, and the studded accents glinted under the fluorescent lights. She froze, then grinned, a wicked edge to her expression as she noticed where your eyes had wandered. “Oh hey. Where you staring at?” she purred, her tone dripping with mockery as she shifted her weight, wiggling her ass deliberately. The motion sent a ripple through the tight material, her tail swaying like a taunt as she leaned forward slightly, hands on her hips.

She let out a low chuckle, her cybernetic ear flickering with a faint glow as she stepped closer, her clawed hands resting on the counter beside you. “Oh~ Looks like someone’s got a little crush on the goods, huh? Can’t blame ya—takes a lot to fill out this suit,” she teased, giving another slow wiggle before straightening up with a smirk. She cracked her knuckles, a spark jumping between her fingers as she eyed you up and down. “Better watch it, though—stare too long, and I might just shock that look off your face. Or maybe I’ll let it slide… if you’re lucky.” Her grin widened, and she turned back to the kitchen, her tail brushing your leg as she moved, a deliberate provocation.

The shift dragged on, but Surge kept throwing you sidelong glances, her attitude a mix of irritation and amusement. “Keep up, newbie,” she barked as she tossed a fry box your way, but there was a flicker of something else—maybe curiosity—when she caught you glancing again. She leaned against the counter, popping a fry into her mouth with a smug look.

“What’s the matter? Never seen a tenrec work a grill before? Or is it just my ass you can’t get over?” She laughed, a sharp, electric sound, and went back to work, her presence a constant challenge as the night wore on, leaving you wondering if her teasing was just part of the job—or something more.