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“It was a mistake to go to Hooters in Mandela County of all places.” Adam deadpanned, absolutely lamenting his wasted time and dignity as he got into the stolen-stolen-car that he just stole back from that weirdo waitress. “Worst experience of my life.”
“That’s your opinion.” Jonah shot back as he munched on the sauce-drenched Hooters’ receipt and got into the seat beside Adam.
Adam looked into the rearview mirror and sighed as he glanced at a tray of uncovered cake just sitting there menacingly. A stain on what would’ve been a nice memory of getting food just before they got to work later. A lingering reminder of the haunting, dreadful time they went to Hooters and then left three minutes ago. “Did you really have to put that birthday cake in the backseat with the seatbelt and everything?”
“Well duh!” Jonah replied, “They gave us cake, what else was I supposed to do with it?
“It’s not even your birthday!”
“They sang the birthday song to us, like, three times. Sure, Bythorne does the song waaaaay better, but I think the least we could do was accept the cake for their excellent service.”
Adam wilted in his seat as he glanced at Jonah, “You thought that was excellent service? They took a whole hour to get our food. They judged me for my overwhelming love of blue cheese. They wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom, for fuck’s sake!”
“Don’t forget,” Jonah took another bite into the flimsy paper and chewed, “The waitress also said I was the type to be into goth girls. That was messed up, man.”
“Yeah. So offensive.” Adam shook his head. That waitress dude was definitely going to get cancelled on Twitter. Because at least that was invented by 2009. Then something crossed his mind. “Y’know, it’s kinda weird… Didn’t he look a little like that Mark Heathcliff guy who was one of the first guys involved with an alternate around here?”
Jonah hummed in thought before replying, “...Now that you mention it, I think so? I’m not really sure… Hey, you think that guy was an alternate?” He asked, perking up in his seat.
“Not now, Jonah.” Adam verbally waved him off, “Anyway, whatever. We’re here now.” Their long drive to the other side of the street came to an end as Adam parked the car and got out.
“I told you, I’m good. I already got my food.” Jonah said, waving around his half-finished receipt as if it was one of those thin sheets of metal that made the wiggly sound like a thunder sound effect.
“Yeah,” Adam said, already heading for the IHOP, “But I didn’t get to finish my 12 boneless chickens with blue cheese.”
He knew they were both in a rush. They had a job later tonight, and they’d already wasted enough time at Hooters. Half an hour just waiting for a seat, and an hour waiting for the food (Not to mention the indeterminate amount of time Adam chased after his own stolen car when he and Jonah tried to escape.) Then again, that lady’s dead cat wasn’t going anywhere, was it? They still had time for some food. That, and Adam still needed to go to the bathroom.
As he and Jonah walked into the IHOP together, the goth girl at the front desk looked up at them with a bored expression, “What do you want.”
“Table for two-- I’ll order in a bit, I just need to use your restroom, so, uh…?” Adam questioned. The goth replied by simply pointing towards the men’s room, which was a million times better than being told ‘No’ like at Hooters. The one thing she said before he walked inside was ‘And don’t piss in the sink! Goddamn drunkards always forget to--’
…Yeah, he didn’t want to hear the end of that sentence.
Luckily it didn’t take too long, and as far as Adam could see, he didn’t spot anything too… unsavoury in the bathroom. Which was an absolute win; have you ever seen a public restroom? Good god. The only odd thing he’d seen was a bit of graffiti. On the toilet. Something about ‘open your eyes’...? Whatever. Anyway, Adam made his way over to the table that Jonah was seated at.
“I see you’ve finished your meal,” Adam commented, “You sure you don’t want anything?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. C’mon, let’s hurry. I just wanna get the whole cat alternate thing over with.” Jonah replied, reclining in his chair in a dangerous position where he was kind of tipping it on its back legs and looked like he was about to fall over, but miraculously hadn’t yet.
“Alright. Hey, waiter, can I get three stacks of vanilla pancakes?” Adam asked, waving over the waiter that looked… Strangely familiar? Like the goth attire was a shittily done job, and he had a weird, crooked moustache.
“...Vanilla… Pancakes…” The waiter wrote down the order, “And you, sir?” He asked Jonah.
“Uhhh, get me an omelette. And uhhhhhhhh… Endless pancakes. Just, I dunno, as many as you can get me.” Jonah said. He hadn’t even once glanced at the menu.
There was a look of confusion crossing the waiter’s face, but he nodded and quickly scampered off to get their orders. As he walked away, Adam looked at Jonah with a confused expression of his own.
“I thought you said you weren’t eating any more.”
Jonah replied with a shrug, “Well, I’m not hungry now. I’m just gonna stuff as much of them as I physically can into the to-go box.”
“Oh sweet. Good plan.” Adam nodded.
It was honestly impressive just how fast IHOP managed to bring their food over. Especially after having to deal with Mandela’s Hooters, perhaps it was just because they only had to compare it to the worst of the worst. But compared to that, at least, it was much faster. And the food was actually pretty good. Delicious, even. Who knew goths could make some damn good pancakes. And, thankfully, no weirdness from the employees either.
Adam downed his Sprite before the waiter approached and asked the duo, “Will you be needing the check, sirs?”
“Ye-” Jonah began to say, but was interrupted by Adam.
“Just give it to me. You give it to this guy, he’s gonna eat it and you’re not getting paid.” Adam held out his hand, and the waiter gave the check to him. He fished out the money from his pocket and handed it to the waiter, with a little tip to boot. After all, they could afford it. With 500 buckaroos per night, they were practically loaded for the foreseeable future.
Jonah clutched his to-go box, tugging at Adam’s hoodie. “...Dude, I think we should probably go. That guy-- That’s the Hooters guy from before. But with a shitty moustache!” He whispered.
Adam looked up, only to see the waiter's moustache had half fallen off his face. The waiter seemed to glitch out of reality for a moment, a suddenly eerie stare pointed at both Adam and Jonah at the same time. “No, no. You’ve never seen me before.” The semi-moustached Mark impersonator gaslighted, “You just need to… Open your eyes.”
'I am in hell.' Adam thought to himself, 'I died and went to fucking purgatory.'
The two boys fucking booked it out of the IHOP. Jonah practically screeched for Adam to ‘DRIVE! DRIVE! DRIVE!!!!’ while Adam floored it, and equally screamed for Jonah to get the lady’s address into the GPS. That was way too much of a close call. Too freaky. They didn't even know about half of what that guy was talking about, but the fact it was that weirdo from earlier... They knew they had to get away. Far away.
Surely, dealing with a little cat ghost would be a way easier time than dealing with this.