Roadkill TUEBL Edition Read Online Free PDF Page A

with finality. "I
didn't come all the way here to eat more discarded food. We're going to get
FRESH burgers."
    "And how do you suggest we get them?" the Raccoon
asked.
    "If we work together..."
    "I didn't come all the way here to attract that van guy
and get captured. I'm heading for the back, where the dumpsters are. Who's with
me?"
    The Skunk and the Possum exchanged worried glances, noticing
that they were both far more faded than either the Dog or Raccoon. Both of them
could feel the steady creep of exhaustion taking hold.
    "We probably don't have much time left..." said
the Skunk worriedly. Her voice was quiet and sounded far-away.
    "Sorry, man," the Possum spoke apologetically.
"Why can't we eat some leftovers first and then try to get some of the
fresh stuff?"
    "It will probably be morning soon..." the Dog said
with a hint of anxiety in his voice, "if we don't get it before long,
they'll stop serving from the dinner menu and start serving from the breakfast
menu."
    The Possum and the Skunk looked aghast.
    "Aw man!" the Possum whined, " Stubby's breakfast food sucks! Still...we need to eat something
from here soon, or we're goners..."
    The Dog paused thoughtfully for a moment.
    "Okay." He seemed to have reached a conclusion.
"You two, go with him around back and see if you can find something to
tide you over until I can get some of the fresh stuff, okay?"
    "You're going all by yourself?" the Skunk was even
more worried than before.
    "I've got food here countless times before. I can do it
again."
    Without further ado, the Dog ran off towards the front door.
The other three watched him go, worry written across their faces.
    "Come on," the Raccoon said reassuringly, "we
need to find you something to eat."

Ten
    The Dog slinked inside the front door, pushing it open with
all his might. The entry bell jingled and the Cashier, half-asleep, was
startled; looking up, however, he saw no one. He shrugged and resumed staring
into space.
    The Dog was hiding underneath one of the tables, and,
careful not to be seen, he began to study the familiar interior of Stubby's . Hard, white metal chairs and light brown-tiled
floors in a perpetual cycle of cleanliness and filth. At present, the floors
had been recently mopped, and underneath the chairs and near the walls he could
see tiny clumps of grime, pushed aside but not removed. The off-white walls and
the huge windows in the front, plastered with ads for various deals and combo
meals, felt like home to him. He knew he had been gone a very long time. Vague
memories of paperwork, stress, and late nights passed before his mind and then
evaporated.
    He remembered sitting at that very same table, in a time
long past and forgotten. He could smell the meat, freshly cooked and kept warm
on heating racks. Drool began to drip from his mouth; his slobber dripped to
the floor and then vanished. Patiently, he waited for an opportunity to get to
the burgers, plotting all the while. After a short time had passed, he had seen
no sign of a distraction for the Cashier. Resolving to take the initiative, he
crept over to a trashcan and knocked it over. Just as quickly, he retreated
back under the table where he'd been hiding.
    The Cashier was naturally startled and confused. He stared
at the fallen trashcan and then gazed around the room. Seeing nothing, he
shrugged once again, and set the trashcan upright. He began to pick up the
garbage that had spilled out, muttering irritably under his breath as he
worked. While he was distracted, the Dog took his chance and rushed behind the
counter, where he found a wrapped Stubby Burger next to the grill on a heating
rack. Snatching it in his jaws, the Dog hurried back to his hiding spot just as
the Cashier was returning to the counter.
    Safely out of sight once again, the Dog gingerly unwrapped
the burger, careful not to let the wrapping make too much crinkling noise that
would attract the Cashier's attention. At last, the Stubby Burger sat before
him, and he