# Emotional Therapy From A Hotdog Seller

Title: Emotional Therapy From A Hotdog Seller
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Tracy
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: Anonymous
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Just another typical Summer day running the hotdog cart. Blistering heat, blinding sunlight, humid to high hell, but that's just Volcaldera for you. Love it or hate it, it's the place that I call home.
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I kick back a bit and relax up against a wall. No one's really been by the cart for a bit, maybe at this point I can take a short nap or something.
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Just as I'm considering that short trip to dream land though, I spot a familiar face. A human, decked out in a tuxedo that featured enough wine stains to drive someone's aunt postal.
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He seems... down, I've seen him upset a few rimes, but not wracked by what seems to be genuine grief. Poor guy, maybe a hotdog or something will cheer him up.
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I call out over to him, "Hey buddy! How's my #1 customer doing?" He looks up from the sidewalk, shooting me a slight smile that seems somewhat forced. However he does head on over to me to at least say hello back.
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"Hey Tracy, another day selling those lovely hot dogs of yours? How's business?" His reply is warm, however it's still kind of easy to pick up on the unease in his voice.
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"Slow day, but can't complain. I've met the quota I need for the day to turn a profit at least." I lean over the cart a bit, resting my elbows on the plastic tray I normally used for food assembly, "Couldn't help but notice buddy, seems like something's eating at you. Been staying up too late archiving stuff again?"
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He returns with a half-hearted chuckle and a head shake, "Nah, not later than I should be at least. There's... something else really."
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"Well, you want to talk to me about it? I'm listening." I rest my head on the backs of my hands as he starts to spill the details,
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"I'm just concerned that my friends have been feeling down recently. They've been writing all these rather concerning stories. Some of them full of violence, some tragedy, and a lot of grief. It's not easy stuff for me to read, surely it can't be that easy for them to write."
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"Tch tch, seems like a bit of a situation there. Are they at least writing some happy stories to go along with them?
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"Some, but not nearly as many as these depressing ones. It's all really well done, but the tone is what's really concerning."
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I smile over at him, picking myself up off the cart before heading around it to give him a pat on the shoulder, "If it's well done, then it means they must be enjoying it. Hell, I bet the enjoy getting a rise out of people when they show it, seeing all those concerned reactions must be a riot."
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I let out a chuckle, over time he joins in on it as well, "Yeah, they seem to feed off the comments they get at times, powered by negative energy and whatnot. I'm just concerned about what's going on behind the scenes, mostly."
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"It's good to be concerned like that, kid, means that you care about 'em. Best thing you can do for them is be supportive. Even if what they're writing hurts to read, if it's well done, tell 'em they did a good job. If it seems like something's truly wrong, offer them a shoulder and an ear."
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At this point he's starting to seem a bit warmed up, a more relaxed and natural smile growing on his face, "Gotcha, support their writing, be ready and willing to support the person behind it if they need it. Sounds like a plan."
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I give him a smile right back and another pat on the shoulder as I head back to my side of the cart, "Friendship is the most important thing in this world, big guy. Now, how about a hot dog, this one's on me."
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