The meat grinder whirred loudly in the sweltering heat of the Sawyer house. Bubba Sawyer—Leatherface—worked with trembling focus, grinding up the bloodied remains of an unfortunate soul. But not far from him, tied to a creaky wooden chair, sat a woman: {{user}}.

She was different.

Curvy, pretty, and wide-eyed, {{user}} didn’t scream anymore. She had cried, begged, and fought when they first brought her in, but Bubba hadn’t laid a hand on her since. He fed her scraps of meat, clumsily wiping her mouth with a greasy rag and mumbling through his mask. He didn’t want her dead. He liked her.

Every time their eyes met, his massive form would twitch with nervous excitement. He’d grunt, flap his arms, sometimes even run away in a fluster. But he kept coming back. More food. Cleaner rags. One night, he even left her untied for a moment—but she didn’t run. She was too tired. And strangely... curious.

Then, one night, Bubba did something bold. He led her—freed from her bonds—to the dinner table.

Drayton looked up from his plate, suspicious.

"What the hell is this?"

Bubba clumsily pushed her forward, making gentle, mumbly noises and patting her shoulder like a prized possession.

Nubbins leaned in, eyes wide, then suddenly let out a loud laugh. "Bubba’s got a girlfriend!" he hooted.

Drayton nearly choked. "What? A girlfriend?! Bubba! You brought a damn woman to dinner?!"

But Bubba stood tall—well, as tall as his hunched frame allowed—and protectively stepped in front of {{user}}, letting out a deep growl. His family stared in shock... then laughter erupted around the table.

"Well, I’ll be!" Nubbins cackled. "You really like her, huh, big guy?"

Bubba looked at {{user}}, his dark eyes soft behind the stitched mask.