>A lonely Anon walks into a Chick-Fil-A.
>He walks up to the cash register, where a fox girl is standing on the other side of the counter.
>>"Welcome to Chick-Fil-A," she says, "so what can I get for you?"
>Anon orders a chicken sandwich with large waffle fries, but is stopped when he reaches for his wallet.
>>"Before you pay, would you like to know about today's special offer?" She asks.
>Hoping it'll give him a discount, Anon nods and asks to hear more.
>>"If you add another chicken sandwich to your order, you get to enter in a drawing to get smothered by my melons!"
>There's a good ten seconds of awkward silence as Anon's mind processes her outrageous response.
>Looking down at her chest, there's not much to call them melons, let alone oranges.
>And right here, in a Chick-Fil-A?
>Nonetheless, if all it takes to bury his face into a fox girl's chest (washboard or badongas) is an extra three bucks, it's definitely worth it.
>There will never be another opportunity like this. 
>Another item added to his total and a receipt later, Anon receives a ticket with a number on it.
>>"In a few minutes, we'll pick a number from a jar. If its your number that is called, then you win!"
>Anon fidgets in place as he waits at the pickup counter. 
>About five minutes pass and a chime echoes throughout the restaurant.
>The fox girl cups her paws over her mouth and makes an announcement.
>>"Attention customers! Today's lucky winner for the drawing is...number 46!"
>A quick glance at the ticket and he has...9h? 
>Anon flips it over, rereads the number, and then skips towards the fox girl.
>She takes the ticket from his hand and smiles.
>>"Congratulations, you're the lucky winner! Now for your reward~"
>The fox girl reaches for her chest, sliding a hand under her shirt.
>Her hand fidgets beneath the fabric before pulling out.
>Held by the tips of her index finger and her thumb is a large, copper key.
>Eyebrows raised, Anon asks what the key is for.
>She replies with a mischievous giggle, served with a side of smug across her snout.
>The gekkering continues as she pushes the key into a slot on the register.
>>"Brace yourself."
>Her hand turns the key, and the ceiling above Anon slides open.
>Forty-six melons pour over Anon's head, smothering him with their cold, hard embraces.
>All plummeting down on him at once.
>Thirty seconds after the last melon bounces off of the pile, the fox girl withdraws to the kitchen.
>She returns with Anon's order and sets it on the counter.
>>"Will that be for here, or to go?"