Thursday, October 22, 2009

Bubba's Bar and Grill

It was two in the morning in the city I protect. I had already broken up seven muggings, two beatings, and pulled mad pit-bull off its master. The later had me fighting both the pit-bull and its master, after he felt I was too rough with his pouch. Being punched and bit by both dog and master, I walked away, only to hear the master screaming for me to help get his dog off him once again. I kept walking.

I was hungry. I removed my Mirrorman garb and stepped in to an all night diner, ?Bubba?s bar and grill.? The bar part was closed, I rarely drank so that didn?t matter, but tonight of all nights I could have used a single malt straight. Instead, I settled for a big Bubba burger no cheese or mayo and water. Bubba?s was on Main street in Huntington Beach, near the coast and far enough away from the zombie zone that I could relax. Bubba wasn?t in, but the late night cook and waitress were. She had jet black hair, pulled up like and puffed up like the pin up model Betty Page. Her unhealthily skinny body spoke of drugs, but I knew Maggie and drugs were not her vice, she was anorexic. Chuck the cook was big and burly, a remnant from Americas past he was a living breathing piece of nostalgia, complete with a scarcity of tattoos picked up at tropic ports of call during his service in the Navy.

Generally it was quiet here, and by that I mean crime was rare, but every since the dregs of society were forced to leave the zombie zone, crime had gone up in what was once low crime areas. Even the movie stars weren?t safe, several had been attacked, and many were now seen escorted by armed bodyguards. It was only a mater of time, before they chose to leave the state. I couldn?t blame them, if people have the means I would encourage them to leave. I was going to stay around, I wanted to see the zombie zone given back to normal humans. But how? I didn?t have the answer to that and neither did Maggie. She was disgusted that the zombies were given free reign of the area, and she freely voiced her opinion every time I walked in.

I tried to explain to her the root of the problem was with the government and their policies. But she wouldn?t believe it, she had been an Obazy supporter and was loath to accept that she had made a poor decision. But now as bits and pieces of America were given away to the zombies and more and more money and rights were being stolen from the citizens she was slowly waking up to the fact. I hoped her and her kind woke up to the fact before they ended up on the dinner table of a zombie horde.

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