((So when do I come in?))
You said you wanted to be in an open area, flame grilling a salmon. So you're in the big vacant lot that is the Stump RV park. Until they go there, you're stuck. Unless you want to reconsider your positioning.
Continue drooling on self silently as Xankarvo pushes us into the town hall.
Welp, let's get going into the damn place, come on.
Prod/shove/harass everyone out of the car and into city hall.
Well, you two end up in city hall at least; a pyromaniac and a brain dead body builder, you should run for office~
The city hall is a simple building on the inside, a large tiled lobby with smaller offices radiating off of it and a front desk sitting near the front doors, with a rather pleasant looking...one of those people things seated at it. It's very quiet in here, just the sound of dead air and the occasional squeak of a chair or soft clatter of papers being shuffled. It's oddly cool as well, even moreso then outside, like they've got the AC way up.
- I'll go get some stuff, see y'all at that Echo Diner in an hour or so, 'kay?
John jumps out of the car and starts speeding towards general store.
Go see if that general store has cigarettes. Or needles.
The general store is a good half block away from where you parked the car...in the middle of the street. The townspeople stare at you out of their windows and storefronts, smiling and seeming really quite happy to see you. The general store itself is a tallish building, quite thin and long, and of a ruddy red color like old clay. Large windows display sale signs that are so sunrotted that they must be decades old, if not more, and the stuff on display is quite random, though much more well maintained. Inside you find a fairly dimly lit building with walls covered in shelves of general groceries and various odds and ends, as well as large table displays of similar things, and baskets of cheap items like screws, bolts, various fruits and clothes hangers stacked in the corners. It all smells of old wood and slightly damp cardboard. The shop keeper is standing behind the counter, beaming at you over his cash register.
You find cigarettes, all lined up like dominoes on one shelf. They're oddly displayed though, there are dozens of brands and they're all randomly mixed together with no coherent pattern. There are needles too, of various kinds; sewing, knitting, even a few hypodermics. These are more organized, though only by size, not by purpose. You don't see any prices anywhere, and you're not even sure what they'd ask for as currency.
Stay in car. Ken doesn't trust these townsfolk.
You sulk in the car, holding your arm and glancing about suspiciously.