Coke Zero was giving Debbie the shakes. “MAKE THE SHAKES STOP!” she shouted.
The waitress at the drive-in, a pedigree poodle, looked at Debbie through her car window in deep disapproval.
“If you can’t handle the Coca-Cola, get out of the barn,” the waitress sneered, adjusting her roller skates.
Debbie was in slow, silent tears as the waitress disappeared back into the Dog N’ Suds restaurant.
“That bitch can’t tell me who I am,” she sniffled. “I come for the hamburgers and the filth, not all this god damn caffeine.”
