"Scream for the sauce, stay for the static."
Once the pride of Nostalgia Town's strip, Burger Banshee was the place where kids traded teeth for tokens, where every booth had a jukebox, and where the napkins were always greasy and slightly damp. No one remembers when it opened or closed.
They say if you walk by after midnight, you’ll still smell fry grease and cheap perfume. A red uniform hangs in the back, name tag scratched blank. The freezer still runs even though it was never plugged in.