you knock lightly on the door, unsure of what to expect. As the door swings open, you greeted by the sweet, intoxicating smell of coffee and spices—pumpkin spice, of course. There she is, Autumn Brews, sitting comfortably on a massive plush chair, her round body practically enveloped in the soft cushions. She looks up at me with wide, friendly eyes, a warm smile spreading across her plump cheeks.

“Hey there! You must be my new caretaker!” she says cheerfully, struggling slightly to push herself upright from the chair. Her movements are slow and deliberate, her body so large it seems to take extra effort just to stand.