The moon hung low in the early Pennsylvanian sky. The light beams danced through the chilly November air - crisp, invigorating - which would be strangely welcomed by any who would walk through the streets at such an early hour. But even with Pittsburgh a short drive away, this small town seemed another world, especially with the trickery of night. What main roads existed were overshadowed by the twisting backstreets of this little town, rows of trees covering either side of the way. They were the type of foliage one would tell stories about around the campfire. Teenage lovers looking for a place away from prying eyes, children looking for a windswept kite, men trying to hide a secret but never intending to die with it - these were the people who became lost to the highway brush and caused many a camper to engage in insomnia, afraid of each and every sound their fragile human ears could pick up.
On this particular night, however, no human souls were to be troubled by the scenery. The town had gone to bed hours before, what slim nightlife would have started killed by the chill in the air. The only person who dared to be out was a man with five dimes floating in his pocket, the desire for a Dr. Pepper overtaking his common sense. There was no need to traverse the long and twisted highways to quench his late night thirst, the quaint side streets of a residential zone being all he needed. Walking along the empty stretch, no homeowner lights lit his way during this private pilgrimage, only the streetlamps placed there long before he was born - and the light of the moon. But soon another beacon came into view, a corporate glow that filled him with glee every time he saw it. A Dr. Pepper machine, always on and always ready to deliver a cool, refreshing carbonated beverage. Attached to a garage that was never designed for public vending, it was the machine that could. A treasure among men.
Sprinting the last few yards, the man stopped at the foot of the soda machine. He stood in the glow, a now ancient logo warming his face. If circumstances had been different, he would have made love to the machine right then and there. That was how much he loved this Dr. Pepper machine. Unfortunately, such behavior would not be considered proper, and the insides surely wouldn't feel as nice as the outside. And if the can dispensing mechanism were to go off...it wasn't something he wanted to dwell on.
Instead, the spiky haired fellow pulled out his five dimes and inserted them into the coin slot, one by one. Only fifty cents was needed in American currency to gain access to the liquid joy held within, one of the many benefits of this lonely Dr. Pepper machine. He looked over the option of drinks that were now at his disposal, and chose one - the Berries and Cream variant of the classic formula. The can dropped from its holding cell, now free for consumption. And so, grabbing the chilled can in the cold weather, he proceeded to open it.
A sip was taken.
Instantly his taste buds were taken to another world, the mixture of the berries and the cream with the classic formula sending him to a state of ecstasy. No longer did he see himself standing in a small Pennsylvania town but instead part of a larger whole, with random celebrity spokespersons standing around a grand piano attempting to master the words of an ancient and powerful lyric as the palette cleansing beverage slid down his throat.
"Yes, I would like to be a pepper, too."