Sam and Max in: Animatronic Armageddon!

There was a call from the police chief to help out with a crisis in a little southwestern town in Colorado,
apparently it was the Podunk Rocket gang up to no good again, this time they're pulling the strings at some
little shanty featuring mockeries of nature and living things, drawing dread from all men and women the
world around and the joy and delight from rugrats and munchkins who couldn't see eye-to-eye with the
mechanical monstrosities, animatronics. This town was nicknamed the Uncanny Valley for its affinity for the
damn things, more rotten with them than Max's collection of spoiled cheeses in the hollow space of the
water cooler.

Sam and Max made their way to the town in the DeSoto, making a few stops here and there for anti-automaton
tools and refuelling, and terrorizing the tourist traps. Some welding torches, waterguns, magnetic bats,
and reflective visors to stop eye lasers, our intrepid heroes reach their destination to find there's a lot
of restaurants with animatronics.

Sitting atop the crest of the hill of main street, there are various normal businesses peppered in between
the rather obnoxiously colorful and garish theme restaurants. Sam has a map and a red marker ready as he
prepares to take notes on possible stops along the way, Max meanwhile is distracted with some scrap metal
Sam found to keep Max busy while they plan, claiming it's a logic puzzle.

Sam looked over the equipment once more, making sure they had everything they might need. "Max, if we don't
make it, make sure they use the picture of the young me in the obituary."

Sam was twisting the scrap about and banging it against the curb, chipping some of the concrete and metal.
"Only if you use my post-mortem posterity for mine, I really wanna let 'em see how grisly it got!"

S: "You got it little buddy! Now, where to start. Nautical Ned's Fish Fry?" Sam pointed to a building that looked like a chunk of an oil tanker.

M: "I don't see the Podunks being interested in narwhals kissing sharks,"

S: "Tammy Touchdown's Sports Bar?" Sam pointed at the structure with a pair of giant baseballs and a cartoon, female tiger face smiling on the sign.

M: "I could go for wings and a pitcher!"

S: "Oh? They have good food and drink?"

M: "Wait, we're talking about the restaurant?"

S: "Your vague innuendo worries me, Max. Well then, how about Paula Polar's Ice Cream Parlor?" Sam pointed
to a store a bit closer, this one looking like a giant meat locker, covered in poorly-maintained brushed steel finish.

M: "I hear they have a problem with Arctic Ticks, plus eugh, teenagers."

S: "I think they'd do more damage to the Podunks than we would if we caught up to them. How about Andy
Armadillo's Steak House?" Sam motioned to another building, this one looked almost like an old west saloon but had a pueblo wall with a Cadillac crashed through it from an angle it'd be impossible to crash into, inside the vehicle looked to be a pair of female mannequins holding hands.

M: "Do they sell armadillo steak?" Max solved the logic puzzle by getting it permanently wedged between two buildings that were built quite close to one another.

S: "No, but I hear they have singing scorpions?"

M: "Sounds right up my alley, but looks like they're closed down for a while. Wonder if they had a
mechanical bull to ride?" Max noted the boarded up windows and police tape and cones around the building.

S: "Well, there's Dino Dan's Pizza and Arcade," Sam pointed to the building with a big dinosaur-themed sign,
while Max was busy rooting through a trash can.

M: "Eh, the entertainment seems mind-rotting enough, we can check there. I'm sure those Rocket weirdos
won't expect us to look in a place set in the prehistoric age! Where else?" Max threw an apple core at the sidewalk to see how high it'd bounce. It didn't.

S: "Walter's Weiner Emporium? Now Featuring the Moustachio'd Mollusk Mome Rath with Manchego." Sam pointed to a building that defied traditional architecture, and seemed to incorporate almost every color possible as well as some unusual artwork of anthropomorphic hotdogs.

M: "You had me at moustache! Let's go there first!"

S: "Easy there, there's a few more to note, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza?" Sam pointed to a nearby building with a nearly empty parking lot, the building itself looked like a fairly normal storefront, though it had a big sign with a cartoon bear, fox, rabbit, and chicken on it.

M: "What's a fazbear? That anything like fasolia?" Max kicked over the trashcan and started peering into the distance at the place.

S: "Seems to be the titular character's last name."

M: "Huh. Still, hope they have green beans as a pizza topping."

S: "Well, over there's Dusky Dave's Taco Land." Sam pointed to a building that seemed to be made entirely of mud, at least at this distance, probably not something up to code.

M: "Ooooh, tacos. Sounds like a good place to abuse my innards, they haven't been getting as much love as
they could be getting lately."

S: "I'd thank you not to binge again, there's only so many windows I can roll down on the DeSoto. Looks
like last up is Pioneer Pete's Pancake Shack." Sam pointed to the building that looked like a comically big, wheel-less frontier-era wagon.

M: "I don't trust places that push dangerous ideas like breakfast for any meal of the day, Sam. We should
look there for the Rockets."

S: "Alright, we've got a short list of places to visit, though I can't help but think there's some sort of
deeper meaning to the entire food industry replacing the love and face time with actual people with cold,
uncaring robots."