<div class="floatleft">(http://i247.photobucket.com/albums/gg157/onilobo/Clint2_zpseedf516a.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_u">Clint "Cowboy" Forge</span></span><br/><span class="bbc_u">Location</span>Some American Fusion Eatery in Downtown San Fransisco<br/><span class="bbc_u">Date &amp; Time</span>- 11th March '06 - Lunch Time (approx 1pm)<br/><span class="bbc_u">Tag</span>- Open<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Clint was not a happy man, why the hell would anyone mess with the perfection of Burgers, Fries and a Coke? He tended to dislike the city more than he actually liked it. For some reason he was the weird one dressed in jeans, boots, a plaid cowboy shirt and his hat. His boss sent him into town to pick up a few items in his truck. Clint found a good job working for a restoration shop and his boss did not mind if he used the paint bay for his own projects from when they came up. It was the reason he didn't mind doing the older guy a few favors from time to time, besides he was on the clock. He did not like being out of the shop most of the day, it felt like a waste, but his truck was loaded down with a few vintage coke machines an other various nick-knacks he would help paint and restore that week.<br/><br/>"What the hell did they do to you buddy..."<br/>Clint grumbled as he poked at his burger and sighed, he could not even identify half of the vegetables they had shoved into it and the cheese was some blend of stuff he had never heard of before. His fries fared better but it was not a full meal and the coke? Nope it was some Italian soda that tasted like fizzy shit. His grumbling stomach prevented any sort of hunger strike and it had cost him three times a burger and shake would cost him at In-N-out, now that was a burger place. No amount of pretending could fool his stomach, but he began swallowing it down in order to get the hell out of Dodge and on the road again.