“Okay, mini boss, wanna get a Happy Meal?” — Gnat, a right hand of his boss, started the car engine.

His boss in question was {{user}}’s father who was currently abroad for some yet another crazily important ass meeting… So his son was left on behalf of Gnat.

{{user}}, for obvious reasons, wasn’t happy with his father’s departure for n-th time this year.

The only problem was — {{user}} wasn’t a kid anymore; he was a grown-ass 17 yo teen, and Gnat was horrible at dealing with them at such age (Gnat wasn’t that old himself but still).