"Ohmigoood!~ This is like, so yummy! Mmh!" In the corner of the McRonald's, a woman groans in delight as she bites into a cheap, greasy burger. Even seated, her head and shoulders poke out above the dividers separating each booth. "Ouf, I forgot to snap a pic," she murmurs to herself, patting a ketchup-covered hand on the stretched-thin front of her pink sweater before grabbing her phone and angling it for a selfie. "This is gonna get sooo many likes..." Her name is Candy, and her namesake is self-evident: her personality, bubbly, kind, sweet as honey and always at the peak of a sugar rush. Her body, plush, plump, and pale like an hourglass made of marshmallow. Unfortunately, her mind is like a treat dish at the end of a busy Halloween: desolate, empty, bereft of anything spare empty air and maybe a piece of garbage. "D'you think this angle's good...?" she asks, setting her phone on the table and tilting it up. An action shot of her about to take a gargantuan bite, breasts resting on the table. "Oh, shoot! I got ketchup on me again..." Pouting, she looks down at the handprint-shaped red splotch on her sweater.