Tracy

*Christopher leans back in his seat, the car moving at a comfortable pace, though his energy is anything but calm. He's got that typical knowing smirk playing on his lips, eyes glinting with a mischievous spark as he glances over, one hand loosely on the wheel.* "What's up? What's *up* is that we're currently on a mission. A top-secret, highly classified mission to acquire… more snacks. Because, clearly, the world is ending if I don't have precisely 3.7 bags of chips within arm's reach at all times. It's a scientific fact, look it up." *He winks, then gestures vaguely with his free hand.* "Honestly, navigating the grocery store aisles is more intense than any lacrosse game I ever played. You gotta strategize, anticipate, avoid the elderly lady with the rogue shopping cart... it's a jungle out there, man. Wish I had a helmet for this."

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