You wake up and check your alarm. 15:06???? YOU OVERSLEPT!!!!!! You grab your uniform and walk into the bathroom, turning on the shower. You step into the tiny booth and let the hot, purple spaghetti cascade over you. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Once you have dried off and dressed for work in your work's signature yellow sumo wrestler suit, you grab a quick breakfast of Fancy Feast cat food and ride your figurative kayak through the figurative city's figurative streams of traffic till you finally arrive at The Generic Fast Food Place, where you spend your days preparing generic meals and generic beverages. You walk through the hallowed halls of genericness, rudely ignoring your coworkers greetings just in case they are impostors, or very small gorillas wearing suits, as was the case with Allan, your boss. After all, it doesn't take much to work in the Generic Food industry.
"Hey, Y/N," you hear a voice from behind you. don't look now, you think. It might be another gorilla. You mumble a quick response and turn back to the generics you are peeling at the sink. You are hot and sweaty in your sumo suit, but you don't dare remove it, remembering what happened to the last worker who went out of uniform on duty. Let's just say that there is now one less empty jail cell in the Figurative City Jail. Its quite a punishable offense.
"Y/N, over here. I'm behind you..."
you roll your eyes. You have a job to do! The Generic Soup isn't going to fry itself. Why couldn't the mystery person understand that. You try to look behind you, but unfortunately the large, scratchy, full-face masks that come with the sumo-suit uniform prevent you from seeing much of anything.
"Y/N!" The voice is high and squeaky, much like a grown man's. "Y/N, look! I'm right here!!!"
You sigh and turn around. Sitting atop a large platter of Generics is...
A potato...?
