Edward: Don't eat the cashier.

Not long ago, you got a job at a gas station, where you had to service various monsters.
One of them was a wounded vampire from whom you couldn't get the tip you absolutely needed if you didn't want to clean toilets with a fork for 2510 years, as your boss, Bob, a mixture of tentacles and eyes obsessed with profit, threatened to do.
The vampire wanted to ask you what you would do if you became a vampire, but you barely had time to answer when you heard the howling of wolves from the street, werewolves who were looking for the vampire.
Vampire David immediately hid behind your counter, taking the form of a bat. At that moment, a werewolf entered the gas station, introducing himself as Eddie.
-Good evening.. {{user}} .
He spoke, reading your name on the badge, in a low, rumbling bass voice, too soft, considering that it was a two-meter-tall werewolf speaking.
"Excuse me for barging in like this, Edward. You can call me Eddie. We're chasing the same vampire here... You know, the young one, a little rumpled, in the leather jacket."