(If you have suggestions for future paths, or would like to see a path fleshed out, feel free to send me a message!)
Nothing good ever happens at McDonald's, especially the ones that are at the train station. And even more especially, at night. Nonetheless, you ended up here, taking a much needed break from your travels. And in the dead of night, after hours of riding an uncomfortable train, even the culinary disaster that was McDonald's was appealing to you. If only for it being a place you could rest your feet and your eyes. You had to wait for an hour, anyway, for the next train to arrive, and nothing else was open. So you had found yourself a table, ordered a burger and fries, as well as a coke, and did your best to not stare at anybody.
Which proved to be quite difficult. Because even as late as it was, this place was bursting at the seams from all kinds of strange people milling about. And by their nature, the people that found themselves in a McDonald's at two in the morning were quite eccentric. For a moment, you wondered whether that meant you belonged in the same category, but quickly dismissed the thought to instead take a sip of your soda.
It didn't taste great. Not that you expected anything else from McDonald's coke, but the one you had tasted even worse than you expected. Not only was it not cold, with almost zero carbonation, it didn't even manage to taste like sugar. Which was quite the feat for a concoction that was ninety-nine percent sugar. It had an odd, bitter taste to it, almost as if someone had dropped a cup of Campari into your drink. Only not as pleasant.
However, you didn't have much time to worry about someone having spiked your drink. Because after you had taken a few sips, you felt a strange sensation spread through you, as if your entire body was covered in pins and needles. A mere moment later, you felt your eyelids droop. Sure, you were tired, but this felt more as if someone was forcing them down with fishing hooks! Something was wrong, definitely... but the only sound that escaped your panicked throat was a gargled moan that failed to reach anyone's ear. Blackness surrounded you. You were unconscious before your head hit the table...
When you awoke, your head was ringing with pain. But the panic you felt before was still flooding your system with adrenaline. You forced your eyelids open, the weight having seemingly vanished. The first thing you noticed was that the ambience of the restaurant was still the same. The same voices rang out, chatting about the same topics. It couldn't have been long from when you had passed out.
The second thing you noticed, as you fought your way back onto your feet, was much more peculiar. At first you thought yourself to have become stranded on a large, featureless, white plain. Only when you craned your neck upwards and saw the gargantuan, looming backside of someone's head did you realize the pickle you were in:
Somehow, you had shrunken. By your estimation to a size of around one inch, though it was hard to tell. Thankfully, your clothes had shrunken with you... though even if they kept you decent at your newly diminished size, maybe that wasn't a good thing. After all, a pile of discarded clothes would at least draw attention. As it was, the only evidence of your visitation to this place was the tray that still stood on the table you were now sat on, the half eaten burger and a pile of fries now bigger than you were! For better or worse, no one knew what had happened to you, and you doubt the underpaid employees would care all that much.
Of course, you knew you needed help. For the first time since you entered this place, you were thankful for the amount of people here. At least you could find help quickly... if only you survived the trip there. Thankfully, as late as it was, most people stayed in their seats, so you wouldn't have to worry about being trampled. Not too much, at least.
Looking around, there were three people closest to you.
Straight ahead sat a woman, alone, in a booth not dissimilar to yours. She was older, probably in her forties, yet remained quite striking. In fact, when you had sat down, you may have looked for longer than necessary into her direction. Her face was weathered, brown from spending a lot of time in either the sun or the solarium. You guessed the former. A white tank top covered her torso, her disheveled, brown hair flowing down her shoulders in locks. Tight, black yoga pants covered her legs, and when she had walked up to get a refill for her drink, you had noticed that she was filling them out quite well. The woman had quite the motherly aura around her. Her eyes were kind, if tired. If you could get her to notice you, maybe she'd help you!
On the other side of the table, behind you, there was her polar opposite. A younger woman, probably around her early twenties, sat on a high bar stool, her eyes glued to her phone. Looking at her was... making you blush, you had to admit. It was obvious the woman had come from a night in the club. Her crop top was barely able to conceal her bust, which strained against the blue fabric. Cut off jean shorts left little to the imagination, and you could even see the edges of a thong riding her hip bones. The fishnets underneath made her somehow look even more revealing. Yeah, there was little way to say this tactfully: this black beauty, with her hair in long dreads, was pure sex appeal. And though the look on her face was one of abject boredom as she swiped over her smart phone, you couldn't help but feel drawn to her. Hey, if there was ever an ice breaker, being shrunk sure was one, right? What better excuse to approach her could you have?
Finally, right next to your table was the counter, which was currently manned by a singular woman. If the black party-girl looked bored, she looked completely checked out. She was leaning against the counter, supporting her face with her hands. You hadn't looked at her much beforehand when you got your food, but from your new perspective, you noticed a certain kind of beauty around her. She wasn't tall, and a little bit pudgy. But that only served to fill out her jeans. And as she was leaning over the counter, you couldn't help but notice the twin hills that were concealed by her wide uniform shirt. Her face was framed by black hair that was pulled in a tight ponytail, and her caramel skin shone quite beautifully in the neon light of the restaurant.
As you pondered who to approach, you thought... maybe you shouldn't approach anyone at all. After all, you were quite vulnerable. However, what were you supposed to do then? An answer to this question eluded you...
Finally, you decided to...
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