That spirit evaporated immediately at a loud crash in Penny’s cage. Walter looked over to see what was wrong, momentarily forgetting about his own machine. When a ball zipped past him, he barely had time to jump out of the way. Before he could figure out what had happened, a buzzer sounded, and the pitching machines all stopped. Without the impending doom of a mechanically-pitched missile, Walter was able to take a better look at Penny’s side of the fence.

“The hell are you doing?” he asked, watching her walk down the lane to fetch her bat. Behind her, the door to her cage opened and a badger in the building’s uniform stepped inside.

“You’re done,” he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Penny said, picking up her bat and hurrying back. “I didn’t mean to.”

The badger shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re done.”

Penny sighed and looked over at Walter. His attention moved to the badger. He was closer to Penny’s age than to Walter’s, probably young enough to think he had more control than he did, and old enough to be given that control by most people. Walter thought he might be able to throw his own weight around, but it didn’t seem worth the effort to fight over another fifteen minutes. Instead, he shrugged and stepped out of his own cage, handing his bat over to the badger on his way out.

“I’m hungry anyway,” Walter said as he continued toward the door.

He glanced over his shoulder, watching Penny defeatedly hand her bat over as well as she followed Walter.

“He didn’t have to kick us out like that,” she said once they were out of earshot.

“He was looking for an excuse to ban us,” Walter said.

Penny glanced back as they walked through the front doors, out to the parking lot. “How do you know?” she asked.

“Because he’s a bouncer at a place like this.” He opened the door as soon as Penny unlocked it with her fob and got into the tiny front seat. He opened the glove box again, hoping that maybe something interesting would have materialized, but he still only found the car’s user manual and an envelope with “INSURANCE” written on the front. He pulled his wallet out of his jeans and carefully looked through all the little pockets and folds in the leather, but he had apparently got carried away the last time.

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked as she pulled out of the parking space and turned the car toward the street.

“I’m totally cleaned out,” he said, sliding his wallet back into his jeans.

“Is that why you’re broke?” Penny asked.

Walter tried to figure out if she was serious, but it was hard to see her face in the dark car. “I ain’t broke. I just need an ATM.”

She laughed and pulled onto the street in a gap in the traffic. “I don’t feel like going in anywhere. Drive-thru okay?”

Walter shrugged and nodded. He was hungry enough that he didn’t really care where they ate. “Whatever you want,” he said. He shifted in his seat and watched closed auto yards and converted houses slide past. He fiddled with the radio, changing stations a few times, but there was nothing playing on any of them that he wanted to hear. He connected his phone to her stereo again and tried a series of playlists, but none of them were what he wanted either. The cages had got him a little too worked up, and now he had nowhere to put that extra energy.

As they crossed 82nd, Penny started paying more attention to what was going on to the sidewalk outside Walter’s window than what was in front of them.

“How the hell do you get in?” she asked, looking for the entrance to the McDonald’s drive-thru. She found it at the last second, turning abruptly into the parking lot, and finding herself on the wrong end of the lane. “God, I hate this one,” she complained, looking around for where the drive-thru lane started.

It was on the opposite end of the parking lot, wrapping around the entire thing in a giant U-shape. As they pulled up to the menu, Walter glanced up at it and realized he didn’t really want anything from McDonald’s at all, now that it was what had been presented to him. He shrugged. “Just get me a Big Mac,” he said as he turned off the music from his phone. Afterwards, he could go home and have a real burger.

She was still looking at the menu for herself when a crackly voice on the intercom asked for her order.

“Yeah, can I get…” she inhaled through her teeth. “Big Mac, no cheese. And a number six,” she said slowly. “With a large Sprite.”

Walter pulled his wallet out again and handed his bank card over to her. She took it and pulled up to the window while Walter continued to fidget with his phone. He checked his email, but didn’t want to read anything in it. He tried scrolling through some news, but nothing seemed worth exploring beyond the headline. At least when Penny handed his card back, it gave him something to do. He put it back into his wallet, and his wallet back into his pocket as they pulled up to the next window. Penny handed him the bag fresh off the heat lamp, and then her giant soda. Her car had no cup holders, putting him in charge of making sure nothing spilled as she pulled out of the drive-thru lane and back onto Stark.

“Fry me,” she said.

Walter opened the bag and pulled one out, handing it over. He took one for himself, and closed the bag back up. She drove a few more blocks down Stark, before turning off onto a tiny, barely-lit one-lane side street, past quiet houses with political signs stuck in their windows.