Damien and Greg were driving down the Interstate from their monthly trip to Costco when they needed to stop for gas. Damien pulled into the first gas station he saw, which was some out of the way place called Sass and Gass. It looked like the typical gas station a white woman in a horror movie wouldn’t want to be caught dead. Greg said as much, but Damien insisted he didn’t want to take the chance of running out of gas before they could find a QT or an Arco.

“And that’s why we’re going to be horribly murdered by some creepy troll or something,” Greg said as he opened his car door.

“Where are you going?” Damien asked.

“I need some water or something.” Greg put on his rainbow face mask. “I’m parched. My throat is so dry.”

Damien chuckled as he stuck his debit card into the pump’s reader. “If you hadn’t been talking the entire way down, your throat wouldn’t be so dry.”

“Har de har har.” Greg flipped him the bird as he made his way into the dirty shop.

With the least amount of physical touching, Greg opened the door to find the shop was just as dirty inside as outside. The shelves were stocked with off-brand options that looked like they’d been there since the first Bush’s administration. He hoped bottled water didn’t have an expiration date.

The door slammed shut behind him, alerting the shop owner to come out of the back office. To Greg’s surprise, the owner was an actual troll, complete with the floppy hat, scruffy beard, and warty face. He supposed it was 2020, and bridges were so stereotypical.

Greg didn’t take offense to the guy being a literal troll. What he took offense to was the fact that the troll was not wearing a mask. This caused him to raise an eyebrow. Not one to mind his own business, Greg thought nothing of confronting him.

“Excuse me, sir,” Greg said as he sidled up to the sale counter. “I couldn’t help but notice that you forgot your mask in your office.” The troll’s dead brown eyes glared at Greg menacingly, but Greg wasn’t shook. “You might want to go back there and get it. You know, just for the sake of your customers’ health.”

The troll scoffed, letting his rank breath permeate the air. “I ain’t got no mask,” he said. “I hate ‘em anyway. They don’t fit over my nose.” He pointed to his rather bulbous and warty nose.

Greg nodded in agreement that finding a mask to fit his nose would be difficult, but it was no excuse. “You know you could use alternatives. There’s got to be something out there for trolls with enormous noses. You just have to take the time to look.”

The troll shook his head vehemently. “Nah, I don’t believe in masks.”

This really got Greg’s heckles up. “It’s not like the fucking tooth fairy. Masks exist, and the threat is real. You can’t just be walking around maskless, possibly infecting everyone who comes in.”

The troll doubled down. “If people don’t want to come in, they don’t have to.”

“You know, you’re right,” Greg admitted. He took one last look around and decided not to get the water after all. If the troll wasn’t going to wear a mask, he sure as hell wasn’t going to sanitize the shop. No one should have to put up with that nonsense, and he decided he would make sure no one would.

Greg approached the door and saw Damien was on his way inside. With a dangerous glint in his eye, he winked at him as he locked the door. Damien recognized that look as slowly backed away.

“Hey, what are you doing?” the troll asked. He came out from behind the counter and stared at Greg like he was crazy. “You can’t do that.”

“Really? Because it looks like I just did.” Greg took a step toward the troll, whose name was Fred, according to his name tag. “As a store owner, you have the right to refuse service to anyone. As an American citizen who doesn’t want to get sick, and who is considerate enough to think of someone besides himself, I have the right to make sure no one else gets sick.”

Fred did not like the look in Greg’s eyes, so he took a step back. “Stay back, man! I don’t want any trouble.”

Greg popped his neck and his knuckles. “Oh, I’m afraid that ship has already sailed, Fred.” He shoved a display of off-brand Doritos onto the floor. Fred flinched as the metallic shelf clattered. Greg calmly bent down and picked it up. Not being a muscular man, Greg had no trouble lifting the small wire frame shelf. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do with it, but he hoped Fred didn’t know either.

Fred raised his hands in anticipation of having something thrown at his face and backed away. “Look, man. I’m sorry! I’ll go in the back and see if I have something.” He awkwardly shuffled back into the hot dog stand, and then back into his office.

The sounds of Fred grunting as he searched the office for anything resembling a mask pleased Greg. He looked behind him and saw Damien’s concerned eyes just above his camo mask. He gave him a reassuring thumbs-up, which Damien did not find reassuring.

“Okay!” Fred called out. He stepped out of the office with his hands raised, as if he was being robbed. He had managed to find a dirty towel which he tied around his head, properly covering his nose. “Okay, I have a mask now. Please don’t hurt me.”

Greg was satisfied. He dropped the shelf, allowing it to clatter on the floor again. He waited until Fred was behind the counter before he moved to the door. He slowly unlocked it. “That’s better.”

Fred’s shoulders relaxed once he was sure he wouldn’t be beaten within an inch of his life. “What can I help you find?”

Greg turned to Fred and winked. “Oh, nothing. I was just browsing.” He opened the door and strode outside.

Fred slumped down in the chair behind the counter, glad the combative customer was gone. As relieved as he was, he didn’t dare take the towel off. He didn’t want to encounter another pro-mask Karen. As he watched Greg and Damien drive away, he began reconsidering his uncle’s offer of guarding a bridge in the next town over.