Another Day At The 7-11

(post-titled by John)

Another day at the 7-11. Another drudge-filled time to spend with the customers. Franklin leaned against the counter with his jaw set hard, waiting for the horde.

A girl walked into the store and dat down on the floor. "Hey, guess what? Buffalo wings aren't made from alien buffalo or illegal crossbreeding! They're made from chickens!"

Franklin laughed. He knew better, having barely escaped with his life form hideous slavery in the flying buffalo factories. The 7-11 was easy work in comparison. But what he really wanted to do was become a psychiatrist. Both jobs were feeding his understanding of the human race.

His customers were his door into the unconscious hopes & fears of the inhabitants of this tiny asteroid chunk of ice orbiting.

Melinda, still sitting on the floor, said, "I'm unconscious and I don't know why. Go on a massively silly quest to save me, the beautiful stranger. Find one pink unicorn and a coke made of gold. Only that can save me.

Franklin stared at the girl on the floor. Did she really expect him to go on a pointless quest? Never mind, he had more important things to do, like maybe another snort of coke.

"Aisle 2 for the unicorn," he pointed vaguely behind the girl. "But we're all out of Coke Gold. It's discontinued. Hey, while you're just sitting there, do you think you could become my first case study? As you're obviously insane, but what I can't understand is why are you walking around with a bunny on your head?"

"Oh," she said. "That. It's a long story. You see, this bunny will slurp my brains out through my ear if I don't give him a pink unicorn."

"Oh," he said. "Is that so?" She nodded in response.

"Yes, mister, you see, it's a matter of principle. I made a promise to the bunny, and I intend to keep it."

"Oh, I see." The girl bought the unicorn and left Franklin to ponder if he was high.