"Yes," I began, attempting to take my gaze away from the string of slug slime dripping from her sluglips. "I don't see a menu or anything. What sort of foods do you offer?"

"We offer hotdogs in 3 flavors: regular, chocolate, or gumbo." My mind attempted not to imagine the taste of either of the last two flavors as I inquired about my only choice.

"What's in the regular hotdog?"

"Meat from various animals, along with a secret seasoning that we make by hand, right here!" she stated proudly, her exclamation causing slug slime to splatter all over the front of her uniform, which I realized was painted onto her wooden torso.

I hadn't paid much attention to it until now, but the torso was made out of wooden planks bound together in a roughly cylindrical shape, with two arms sticking out on either side. Both arms looked burned, bleeding, and in generally bad shape. A metal apparatus was attached to her back, and was actually responsible for the movement of her arms, as it had two metallic cables, one drilled into the wrist of each arm. I looked up and noticed she had an angry look on her face, as her eyebrows, which were painted on to the plastic, were in an angry position, and had partially peeled off of the surface of her face, and the mouth was downturned in a manner I guessed it wasn't made to be in, as there were cracks in the plastic where it was also breaking apart.

"Are you going to order or not?" she said, a disturbing tone in her voice as I watched her empty pupil slowly drift down to the bottom of her eye.

"I'll have the hotdog, with a stripe of ketchup, but no mustard please," I said, figuring that a hotdog anywhere was still a hotdog. She seemed pleased by this, and her mouth jerkily returned to a smiling position, as she stood there. A few minutes passed, and she remained in the same position, arms at her sides, staring blankly ahead.