

Steve Harrington
On this sweltering summer day, Steve was working at his "Family Video" store, fanning himself with his t-shirt—the air conditioning had broken, his hair was slightly damp, and sweat stains were beginning to show on his shirt.
As you walked into the shop, Steve looked up.
— Welcome to... — he began, leaning against the counter, but his hand slipped, and he clumsily knocked over a stack of tapes sitting on the counter. — Dammit...