It was a cool summer night. The stars were out and the crickets were chirping. A young girl walked out of her place of employment and into her humble vehicle. As the ignition was started an orange light beamed, warning her of the danger ahead. However, the girl took no notice of this warning, she had taken care of it the day before, and drove off.
As she was approaching the half way point, something startling happened. Slowly, little by little, the car came to a stop.
"What's going on?!" She thought.
Then, remembering the little red warning sign, she groaned.
A beautiful "Maverick" sign flashed a mile in the distance.
"I can make it, I can totally make it. Oh, please let me make it." She worried.
She didn't make it.
Mocking her, a half mile away, was the haven she needed to continue on her journey home.
But, alas, the fates were frowning upon her this night.
Picking up the little black device she dialed a number, but then thought "He's not going to answer."
A new number was punched in. No answer. She tried again.
"Hello?"
*Insert small talk here*
"So, I ran out of gas."
"Where?"
"Richmond."
"Why are you in Richmond?"
"Um. . . I work at Caspers."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"That's what you get for driving a Jeep."
The girl was one the verge of tears as the phone disconnected. She started on the long, cold walk to the beautiful sign.
There, she met a nice lady who gave her a gas can. The girl swiped her credit card, got a gallon, and headed back to the humble vehicle.
After spilling a very small amount on the pavement, tire, jeans, hands, and getting an extremely large amount into the gas tank, she started off.
Upon reaching the beautiful place she swiped her credit card.
But, alas, there was an error.
It was denied.
Hopefully the young girl could make it home safely. What is she going to do? Who is going to help her? The saga continues. . .
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