“Once a year?!” She laughed. “I can’t relate, fortunately. See, I don’t have to control every break in the fourth wall.”

Angie
put a paw to her chin in thought, and ran through the list of powerful
drink options in her head. Her eyes suddenly lit up, and she grinned
victoriously.

“I have an idea.” The coyote dashed to the cupboard
and pulled out the necessary ingredients for the drink. “What you’re
about to taste after I’m done is the most energized, action packed,
caffeinated coffee ever discovered by toon-kind. I call it, ‘The
Shotgun.’”

Sounded quite safe indeed…

“Don’t worry! I usually don’t offer this, so it’s on me!”

“Eh, that’s fair,” he conceded, unwilling to admit his sleep deprivation was mostly self-imposed.

“The Shhhhhotgu—” he yawned, “–un? ‘Scuse me…yeah, sure….thanks….”

He went to find a vacant (not mun-related) table, hoping he would be awake for when the coffee was done. He left the wad of cash on the counter, not really caring one way or the other. Besides, in any case, he forgot all about it. He just wanted some coffee.

Within seconds of waiting, he was fast asleep on the chair. His snoring was  normal for a Toon, with a bit of bubbling in it. After a minute he collapsed completely and landed on the floor in a still-snoozing heap.