Roadkill Special

Jimmy pulled up to the diner, the beginning of a hunger pain in his stomach. He knew he had been lucky to find this diner, on his trip through the wheat fields of Kansas. It was a little out of the way, but his hunger wasn't going to complain about location for the restaurant.



As he stepped into the diner, he was overwhelmed by a sickeningly sweet smell. It was almost unpleasant, and he caught the gag in the back of his throat before it escaped. With an unpleasant burp, his stomach gave a lurch and he sat down in the booth nearest to the door.



"What'll ya have, dear?"



The waitress was exactly like you picture her in the movies, a rotund woman of maybe mid-fifties, with a crop of dark red hair. The circles beneath her eyes spoke volumes as to when the last time she'd had a good night's sleep was.



"What's the special today? Wasn't it chili?"



"Yeah, and our chef makes a mean chili."



At this the waitress, Tina if her nametag was to be believed, let out a wry smile and put the tip of her pen on the pad.



"Is that what you want, dearie? A nice big bowl of chili?"



Jimmy's stomach gave another uneasy jump, and he knew if he didn't order quickly everybody in the diner was going to discover what he'd eaten for breakfast.



"That sounds good," he said hurriedly, trying to keep his breakfast down. His stomach didn't want to be in this roadside stand, and the longer he was surrounded by that stench, the less he wanted to be in here also.



"One roadkill special, extra roadkill!" Tina called out, throwing Jimmy a wink and wandering off to fill the coffee cup of a trucker up at the bar.



Jimmy sat there and thought about the events that had led to him being in that dingy caf About finding Jenny in bed with his best friend, his dog having run off in the maelstrom that followed, and him jumping into the Charger and taking off. About the only thing in life that he still loved was that damn car, and he was glad that he'd bought her.



It had now been about thirty minutes, and the trucker was long gone. Even Tina had disappeared, leaving Jimmy to wonder a little about what was going on in that dive. The stink, that sweetly unpleasant smell, had only gotten stronger as he'd been sitting there.



His curiosity finally getting the better of him, he decided to head towards the kitchen to peek his head in, and check to see if the chef had finished the chili yet.



"It can't be that hard to heat up a bowl of chili," he thought to himself, as he got up and turned toward the kitchen.



The sounds coming from the kitchen were almost shockingly graphic. Between the crunching and squelching, he knew that he had heard something that didn't belong.

Peering between the doors, he saw Tina on top of the table, with the chef bent over her. At least now Jimmy knew where the weird noises were coming from. These backwoods freaks were humping each other in the kitchen, causing Jimmy to not get his food. His stomach turned again as it caught whiff of that unpleasant smell.



All of a sudden, the chef stood up and put what looked like sausage into the water. At that point, Jimmy knew the true horror of what he had stumbled onto. They weren't fucking on the prep station, Tina was being chopped up and boiled for dinner. As she turned, she spotted Jimmy and let out a gasp. The chef turned, saw him there, and turned a nice shade of fuchsia.



"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He bellowed, storming towards Jimmy carrying his meat cleaver. Tina tried to stop him, grabbing his arm as he walked off. With a thump, she slid headfirst off of the table and onto the floor, leaving a trail of blood and guts behind her.



The chef was still storming towards Jimmy, his cleaver glinting under the fluorescent lighting. Jimmy turned and ran out the door, not stopping until he got to his car. As he got into the Charger, he breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, the chef was still heading out the door, but he not going to be able to catch him. As Jimmy turned the key, the ignition went click-click-click but never cranked. He'd never had this problem before, which worried him immensely.



Looking at his hood, he could see that it was still partially up. Whomever had salvaged his car had not closed the hood properly, leaving it propped up a little bit where he could tell someone had been in there.



His heart jumping to his throat, Jimmy remembered how the chili had been called for: "Roadkill special". With that startling revelation, and with the chef closing in on his car, Jimmy realized that his bad day was about to get worse. He wasn't going to eat the special, he was going to be the special.