"How're we gonna go about doin' this?" Bobby asks, just like he always does. It's the same question every time for him, because apparently Andy is smarter than Bobby. Well, considering his logic with most things in life, it's not hard to comprehend Andy's superiority in intelligence compared to Bobby.

"Just like we always do, of course. We head into the store, look around for a bit, then, bam! You pull the gun out, and get all the money this old wreck has to offer." Calling it an old wreck would be the kind thing to say, the exterior proving to be unappealing on every level.

At least the store will be empty.

The two trudge in together, Bobby pushing open the old glass door with an oddly colored stain that could be the first indication that this place was a piece of crap. The bell that every gas station has rings, causing the old man at the counter to turn his head up from the counter, which also has a stain.

"Howdy, boys," he says in a less distinct but still audible country accent, a crooked and yellow grin showing the man's cheap and possibly nonexistent dental care. Where could you find a dentist around these parts, anyway?

"Hello, sir," Andy says to him, going towards the alcohol section in the back of the store.

The inside isn't as bad as the outside, showing the man's tiny amount of care for the small establishment that probably hasn't had a customer since Andy pulled out his first tooth with the help of a lawn mower.

Bobby heads towards the snack section, pretending to look interested in the bags of chips that cover most of the area.

Heading back to the front where the old man stands with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, Bobby pulls out the gun from his pants, pointing it right at the man's chest.

As the cigarette falls out of his mouth, he puts his hands in the air, backing away. He clearly isn't the brave type.

"You want the cash? Take the cash, just don't hurt me," he says, getting up against the wall.

"Thank you, sir," Bobby says, grabbing the cash register from the counter, walking out of the store, Andy following close behind him with a pack of beer in his hands. 

Just before they reach the car, Bobby stops, causing Andy to run into him, the alcohol in his hand falling to the ground. "No!"

"Wait. I'll be right back," he says, going back towards the building.

Seeing this, the man gets even further away. Could he make it more obvious that he doesn’t have a weapon?

"Here ya go, sir," he says, taking some money out of the register and placing it on the counter.

"That's for the trouble."