It was a stormy night.
As if Storm from the X-Men was near by, doing storm stuff.
Howling wind, sharp rain, you know, the stuff storms are made of.
Anyway, the two high school sweethearts pulled off the frontage road to find somewhere to wait out the spooky storm. After several dark miles into the seemingly abandoned town, the teens found a Denny’s.
"Thank the heavens" sighed Chris. He’d been on edge all night. Being a teen is scary enough, and he really wanted Matilda to like him, and on top of all that anxiety there was that crazy storm I was telling you about in the beginning of the story. And Chris HATES storms! "Let’s get something to eat!"
"Wait…Chris…I’m frightened!" whimpered Matilda. "I’m…I’m worried something terrible might happen in there!"
"Matilda, it’s a Denny’s! They’re open 24 hours a day and they serve anything you could want from a diner! It’s the safest and most delicious place to be in the county right now. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you."
"O..o..okay, Chris. If you say so."
Remember that storm from earlier? Oh yeah, it was still going like totally nuts! Stormin’ all over the place.
So Chris and Matilda ran from the car into the Denny’s, the rain shooting down at them from the dark, tumultuous sky above. Somewhere in the distance a bird made horrible noises. What kind of bird? I’m not sure. An evil bird, I would assume. Some kind of demon birds. The worst birds.
After the couple made it inside they were seated and served piping hot coffee right away. “Chris, you were right. I knew I could trust you. I feel safer already!”
Chris grinned at her and nodded. Safe at last. The storm stayed outside and inside the Denny’s was warmth and happiness. Even a man with a hook for a hand and a big clown mask was inside. Definitely not a psycho murderer, guys. Just a fun man with a hook and an affinity for clown culture.
The waiter came to take their food order. “I’ll have a Moons Over My Hammy please” said Matilda.
"Hmm, and I will have…a Grand Slam? With extra bacon?" Chris followed.
"Oooh! I would love extra bacon, too, Chris! Good call!" exclaimed Matilda.
The waiter stood frozen, his brow sweating, his skin pale and tight. “I’m…gosh I’m so sorry. We’re completely out of bacon.”
His words hung in the air like ghastly bats. Chris attempted to speak but he was so shocked that every bit of oxygen vacated his trembling lungs. He looked to Matilda, her face quivering, her eyes turning red with fear, and suddenly, breaking the heavy silence in the diner, she belted a Wilhelm scream that shattered the windows, the coffee pots, the water glasses.
No one ever saw the two again. And although there has never been a bacon shortage like that night, any time it storms here in Storm County, a faint scent of pork floats across the cities. And they say Matilda is out there…cooking bacon in the forest…waiting for her revenge…