<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/36/c7/ee/36c7ee071cc6d56a6f390852faad369f.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Benson "Bence" Marconi<br/><strong>Alias:</strong>Red Ranger<br/><strong>Time/Date:</strong>October 1st, Late Evening<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Duffy's Burger Joint<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Everyone, Open<strong>Mention:</strong>N/A<br/><hr/><br/><div align="center">(http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjYwLjAwMC5SSFZtWm5rbmN5QkNkWEpuWlhJZ1NtOXBiblEsLjAA/geovana.regular.png)</div><div align="center">(http://www.cloudeddottedmind.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/Blend-Casablanca-Burger-Restaurant-Layout-4.jpg)</div><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Restaurant Music</div><div class="spoiler_body">https://youtu.be/xuoXkMZvD5Q</div></div></div><br/>The burger restaurant hadn’t been just any burger restaurant like McDonald’s or Burger King. The burgers were gourmet, which meant the waitress<em>did</em>ask,<em>How do you like your burger?</em>It was the magic question, which told Bence that the restaurant was legit. What Bence hadn’t expected to do was order three of them: Black and Blue (Blue Cheese Burger); BBQ Onion Burger; and a Bison Burger called a “BJ” because that’s probably what it felt like when one ate it. He was already smashing a large basket of chili cheese fries before the meal even arrived. With a cheek full of fry matter, Bence stammered between swallowing it down:<br/><br/>“So the consensus is, nobody wantsta’ shack up. So do we have an alternate emergency plan? I don’t want to be sittin’ on the shitter and some fuckin’ alien kicks in my door.”<br/><br/><strong>If the humans don’t want to coexist, then…I do not know another solution than the one I previously stated.</strong><br/><br/>Bence wore a sarcastic and cheery smile on his face as he threw up his hands and slapped them back down on top of his thighs: “Great! You hear that? We’re fucked!”