You're hot dogs on a gas station roller grill. Push everybody off. The rollers carry you toward the edges, the condiments fly, and whoever falls off comes back as a customer's hand with tongs. Everybody plays on their phone.
8 rollers, always turning. Each one carries whatever's on it toward the front (the grease trap) or toward the back. The arrows on the frame show which way. They switch now and then: the roller glows orange first and the announcer calls it. The ends are walls; off the front or the back and you're out for the round.
Last dog on the grill wins the round. Knock somebody off (you touched them last) and it counts for you too.
Left thumb: drag to roll around. BOOST: a jet of hot dog water, a big hit, a wet slick behind you. TOPPING: spray whatever you're holding. Grab jars that fall off the condiment station.
With LEGS (a card): KICK.
Mustard is ice. Stone ground is grippy (hard to push you out). Relish is marbles. Onions make you cry (your steering goes, no boost). Jalapeños make you spicy (you hit harder, you cook fast). Nacho cheese is glue, then it sets into a lump.
You cook while you're on the grill: browner, heavier, slower. Cooked through, your casing splits and you're two halves on one stick. The Tuesday Dog has been there since Tuesday. It doesn't move.
You come back as a hand reaching over the counter. PINCH (tongs) takes a bite (they limp; six and they're eaten), SMASH flattens one (slow, wide, hard to push), SHAKE bumps the counter. Everything winds up first, so they can dodge.
Everybody rolls a d20 on their phone and picks a card: a bun, a foot-long, legs, bacon, a corn dog, tofu (the hands won't touch you)... Higher rolls, better cards. A 20: pick two. A 1: cursed. First dog off gets +3.
It gets worse if a round drags on: the clerk turns the rollers up, the heat lamp goes to high, then he starts wiping the grill with a rag.
After every second round, everybody's an aluminum can in the street out front. The curbs are walls; roll off either end into the intersection and you're out. FIZZ pops your tab (a soda jet), HOP bounces you over trouble. Slow cars shove you around and every bumper's a dent; mind the storm drain.
Every hit dents you, and dents never come out, all night. A beat-up can is slow and wobbly, but its torn edges hit harder. Dented all the way: crushed. The fallen are passersby: KICK, STOMP, HONK (the cars floor it). Last can standing picks an extra card. Scott shows up late. He brought margaritas. The salt eats cans.