Clef Goes to the DMV
rating: +17+x

Though the seats at the DMV office would typically be packed tightly with people waiting to be called up to the counter, no one seemed to be interested in sitting next to Clef. It might have been because he looked quite suspicious wearing a duster hat and coat in the middle of summer. It might have been because he smelled a little(a lot) like sulfur and smoke. It might have been because his unusually jagged teeth resembled those of a shark. It might have even been because that eye tattoo on the back of his neck looked like it had blinked.

Ultimately, it didn't matter to him. His status as an island in the sea of human bodies and chairs only meant he would be able to put his feet on the seat opposite him. Would he not been scolded three times prior, he'd probably be having a smoke as well.

Ding.

"Number 67, Line B. Number 67, Line B."

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