A Kitchen Chronicles Roadtrip
Part 4
©ESR 2026

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

The first sign that something unusual was happening appeared on the horizon.

Benny saw it first.
Naturally.
Because Benny saw everything first.

“Storm.”

No response.
The title had become background noise approximately forty-five minutes ago.

“Storm.”

Still nothing.

“STORM.”

“What?”

Benny’s nose was pressed so firmly against the carrier door that it flattened slightly.
“What is that?”

Storm glanced toward the road ahead.
Then immediately regretted it.
“Oh.”

The Queen looked up from her coffee. Then laughed.
“Oh no.”

Jaguar narrowed his eyes.
In the distance stood a building.
Not a store.
Not a gas station.

A monument.
A kingdom.
A civilization unto itself.

Rows and rows and rows of gas pumps stretched across the landscape like some strange industrial army.

Cars moved everywhere.
People moved everywhere.
Signs towered over the highway.

And there, smiling with unsettling confidence, was a giant beaver.

Benny gasped. The carrier rattled.

“What.”

Is.

THAT.”

The answer only made things worse.…“It’s Buc-ee’s.”

“Who’s Buc-ee?”

“The beaver.” Flame said cheerfully.

“The giant one?”

“Yes.”

Benny stared through the windshield.
The giant smiling beaver stared back.
A long silence followed.

Then: “Can we meet him?”

The Queen nearly inhaled coffee.
Storm closed one eye.
Jaguar immediately sensed disaster.

The parking lot alone nearly overwhelmed him.
The place was enormous. Rows of vehicles. People everywhere.
The smell of gasoline mixed with barbecue and roasted nuts drifted through the air.

The carrier door opened.
Benny emerged wearing his travel harness.
Proudly.

His tail stood straight up.
Adventure mode activated.
The Queen clipped the leash to his harness.
Storm carried supplies.
Jaguar followed.

And together they approached the entrance.

The doors opened.

Benny stopped.
Completely stopped.
His brain ceased functioning.

The world exploded.
Colors.
Lights.
Voices.
Movement.

A wall of drinks. A wall of snacks. A wall of candy.

A wall of things that appeared to exist solely because humanity had collectively decided “moderation” was optional.

The ceiling stretched forever. The store stretched forever.

The jerky section alone appeared larger than some towns.

Benny’s eyes widened. Then widened again. Then somehow widened further.

The Queen crouched beside him. “Benny?” No response. “Benny?” Nothing.

Jaguar looked down. “The kitten is overwhelmed.”

“Can he do that?”

“Apparently.”

Then Benny saw the jerky wall. “What is THAT?”

“Jerky.”

“Why is there so much?” No one had an answer. Not a real one.

The wall continued into the distance.

Flavors stretched beyond imagination.
Peppered.
Teriyaki.
Sweet.
Spicy.
Smoked.

Flavors no reasonable creature should have attempted.

Benny looked horrified. And impressed. Mostly impressed.

Then came the fudge.
The bakery.
The roasted nuts.
The bakery again because somehow it deserved two reactions.

At one point Benny simply sat down in the middle of an aisle and stared.
The Queen found him examining a display of caramel popcorn. “Are you okay?”

“I think humans are very powerful.”

Jaguar had his own concerns. Specifically: The taxidermy.

Everywhere he looked…deer, fish, wildlife artwork. Woodland decor. Animal motifs.
Entire walls dedicated to celebrating creatures while simultaneously selling brisket sandwiches.

The contradiction disturbed him.

Storm found him staring at a mounted deer. “What are you doing?”

“I have questions.”

“About?”

“Everything.”

Then Benny found the statue.

The statue.
The giant smiling Buc-ee standing near the merchandise section.

Towering.

Majestic.

Terrifying.

Benny froze.

Looked up.

And whispered: “…Buc-ee.”

The reverence in his voice suggested he had just discovered royalty.
Storm immediately knew this was a problem.

“Can we meet him?”

“No.”

“Can we speak to him?”

“No.”

“Can I leave him a gift?”

“No.”

“Can I join his kingdom?”

“No.”

The plush section finally ended whatever remained of Benny’s self-control.
Thousands of stuffed animals.
Rows upon rows.

Soft.
Colorful.
Huggable.

And there.
In the center.
A giant Buc-ee plush.

Nearly as large as Benny himself.

The kitten stared.
The plush stared.
Destiny unfolded.

“No.”

The Queen hadn’t even been asked yet.

Benny hugged it.
Immediately.
Completely.
With the full force of his tiny orange heart.

The plush vanished beneath kitten arms. “I love him.”

“No.”

“His name is Buc-ee.”

“No.”

“He understands me.”

“No.”

“He needs a home.”

“He has one.”

“He longs for adventure.”

The Queen looked at Storm.
Storm looked at the ceiling.

Jaguar looked…suspiciously interested.

Twenty minutes later they left the store.

The Queen carried snacks.
Storm carried drinks.
Benny carried victory. Specifically, one giant Buc-ee plush. The kitten’s face radiated smug happiness. His tail swayed. His steps bounced.
Everything was right with the world.

Then the Queen stopped.

Something was wrong. She looked around. Counted.
Storm. Present.
Benny. Present.
Jaguar…Missing.

The great cat emerged moments later from another aisle.
Calm.
Composed.
Dignified.

The Queen narrowed her eyes immediately. “Jaguar.” Silence. “What is behind your back?”

“Nothing.”
The answer guaranteed guilt.

Storm immediately turned away. The traitor.

The Queen folded her arms. “Jaguar.”

The great cat remained motionless.

Then, very slowly, produced a Buc-ee plush.
A tasteful Buc-ee plush.
A dignified Buc-ee plush.

If such a thing could exist.

Benny gasped. The sound echoed through half the parking lot.

“You got one too!”

“No.”

“That’s clearly a Buc-ee.”

“It was acquired.”

“That’s what getting one means.”

“No.”

The Queen began laughing.
Hard.
The real kind.
The kind Storm hadn’t heard in weeks.
The kind that made her shoulders shake.
The kind that left tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

And suddenly the entire stop felt worthwhile.

Benny pointed dramatically. “Did you bond with him?”

Jaguar looked away. A fatal mistake. The silence answered everything.
The Queen lost all remaining composure.
Storm wasn’t far behind.

Then Benny noticed something.
The tag.
Still attached.

The giant orange kitten gasped.
Theatrically.
Scandalized.
“YOU BOUGHT HIM TODAY.”

Jaguar closed his eyes. The accusation was accurate.

“He bonded.” Benny pointed at the plush. Then Jaguar. Then the plush again. “He bonded hard.”

The Queen was laughing so hard she needed Storm’s shoulder.
Storm was openly grinning.

The parking lot witnessed the collapse of ancient dignity.

The drive resumed shortly afterward.
The Queen settled into her seat. Still smiling. Storm pulled back onto the highway. Benny sat proudly beside his enormous Buc-ee. And Jaguar sat beside his considerably smaller Buc-ee. Pretending neither one existed. Neither fooling anyone.

The highway stretched onward.
The forest waited ahead.
The cabin waited beyond that.

And for the first time since the Nutella incident, the Queen looked completely happy.

Storm glanced toward her. Saw the smile. The laughter still lingering. The lightness returning. And decided that perhaps a giant beaver had been exactly what this trip required. Even if he would never admit that aloud. Especially not to Jaguar.

Who was currently pretending not to hold hands with a stuffed animal.
And losing that battle spectacularly.