Alex Lee Martinez - Gil's All Fright Diner

The kitchen doors swung open, and a tall, plump woman lurched into the front. She wore a T-shirt and jean cutoffs that hugged her jiggling behind, but only barely. Cellulite rolled down her legs in flapping waves with each step. A soiled apron stretched across her immense breasts. Her hair, a frazzled bleached-blonde mess, slung to the left of her face and just past her shoulders. She smiled, revealing teeth the size and color of corn kernels. A stained tag pinned to her collar had the name Loretta in bright green letters next to a beaming happy face.

"Morning, boys. What can I get you?"

Duke fished deep into his pockets and dropped a handful of crumpled bills and eighty-three cents in change. "What'll that get me?"

The waitress pushed the money around with the eraser end of her pencil. "Grilled cheese sandwich, some fries, cuppa chili, and a Coke."

He nodded.

"Nuthin' for me, thanks," Earl piped in. "I already ate."

Loretta disappeared into the back. Duke, who had seen a man's fresh innards spilt upon the ground on more than one occasion, averted his eyes from the disagreeable trembling flesh of her exit. Earl was too busy looking for his shadow to notice.

The waitress's head bobbed about in the rectangular window that allowed a glimpse into the kitchen. "Where you boys headed?"

"Nowhere in particular," Earl replied. "Just driving."

"Nuthin' wrong with that. Hell, sometimes I wish I could pull up stakes and just go wherever the Good Lord sees fit to take me." She slapped something on the grill, and sizzling filled the air. "You boys didn't see nuthin' strange on your way in, did'ja?"

Earl snorted. "Strange like what?"

"Nuthin'. You'd know it if you saw it. So where you from?"

"Around."

She grinned. "Sorry, I just get to chatting on these slow nights. Don't mean to pry into your business."

Ten minutes later, she set a plate before Duke. The cheese dripped a puddle of grease, and the fries were soggy and brown. The chili was steaming hot, though. He dipped his spoon into the thick brown concoction and took a bite.

"How is it?" Earl asked.

"Good. Little heavy on the garlic."

Duke leaned close and let his traveling companion get a strong whiff of his breath. Earl recoiled, tumbling off his stool and hitting the floor. His nostrils flared, and his face contorted into a scowl.

"You asshole."

Duke chuckled.

Loretta smiled. Her smile vanished as her eyes fell on the glass diner doors. "Aw, damn it. Not tonight."

Earl glanced to the front. Nine shambling corpses in various stages of decay were pressed against the glass. Their yellow eyes (for those that had eyes) stared hungrily. Purple tongues licked peeling lips.

"Told'ja I smelt zombies," Duke said without turning from his meal.

The walking dead smashed their way through the glass doors. The lead corpse, in a blue paisley suit, stumped forward on stiff legs.

"Don't you worry none, boys. I'll handle this."

Loretta pulled a double-barreled shotgun from behind the counter, took aim, and squeezed the trigger. The blue-suited zombie's head exploded in a rain of dirt, bone, and maggots. The corpse took one more step before falling over. The next zombie suffered the exact same fate.

She removed the spent shells and fumbled around under the counter. "Damn. I'm out of ammo. Hold on. I got some more in the back." With a speed that belied her size, she rushed into the kitchen.

The seven remaining zombies shuffled forward, slowly closing the fifteen feet from the door to the customers.

"You wanna handle this, Duke?"

"I'm eating."

"You saying I'm afraid?"

Duke sighed. For an enlightened vampire, Earl could be damned sensitive.

"I didn't say nuthin' of the sort."

"You implied it."

"Damn it, Earl. If I got sumthin' to say, I just say it. I don't imply shit." The werewolf swallowed a third of his sandwich in one bite. "Anyhow, don't you got one of them clear minds. I didn't think you got scared."

"I'll show you who's scared."

The vampire rolled up his sleeves and walked up to a zombie. He unleashed a clumsy right hook. His target made no effort to get out of the way. The zombie's jawbone flew across the room with a dry crack. He stumbled back.

"I ain't scared of nuthin'."

He landed another punch on a second opponent. Her head spun around to face her back.

"I'm immortal, you dipshit!" Earl shouted to Duke. "You think a bunch of worm-ridden pricks are gonna bother me?"

He summoned all his unnatural strength and thrust his fist into a zombie's chest. Fragile ribs and desiccated organs gave way, and his forearm thrust through the corpse. He pulled, but the arm was stuck.

"Goddamn."

The impaled zombie grabbed him by the throat. Vampires didn't need to breathe, but even the undead could be inconvenienced by a crushed larynx. Earl kicked one of his attacker's thin legs. The limb broke off at the knee. The hopping zombie tightened its grip as its brothers and sisters encircled their prey.

"Uh, Duke," Earl rasped, "A little help here."

The corpses fell upon him in a hog pile.

"Shit."

Duke stuffed a handful of soggy fries into his mouth and took off his jacket, followed by his T-shirt. He was in the middle of unlacing his boots when Loretta returned. "Where's your friend?"

He nodded toward the mound of moaning dead.

She blasted two of the corpses on top and reloaded hastily. "I'm really sorry about your friend there. How about a free slice of apple pie? Just let me take care of these godless abominations first."

Duke pulled off his jeans and stood completely naked. The werewolf found it saved time not to bother wearing underwear. He tossed his clothes in a heap on the counter.

"That's alright. I got it."

The bear of a man transformed into a wolf of a man. His impressive six-foot-five frame expanded and widened into a hairy ape-like shape. Powerful muscles bulged beneath coal black fur. Terrible claws sprouted from his fingertips. Thick yellow teeth grew from his gums. Duke dropped to all fours.

"Damnation," Loretta uttered breathlessly.

Your average zombie is not a combat machine. Their fighting prowess springs from a single-minded determination and a certain walking corpse stick-to-itiveness. Your average werewolf is an unrivaled killing machine, vicious teeth and claws coupled with supernatural grace, power, and the ultimate predatory instincts. Duke was not your average werewolf. He cut a swath through the corpses, twisting off their heads with casual effort. Within four seconds, the five remaining corpses were sprawled on the floor in a twitching mass.

"Damn it, Duke," Earl growled. "I think one of those things took a bite out of me."

Duke chuckled dryly. "Zombies ain't got no stomach for undead flesh. You know that." He walked back to the counter and had a seat. The metal stool bent under his full lycanthrope weight.

"Now, how 'bout some of that pie?"

Loretta eased back the shotgun's hammers. "You boys ain't planning on any funny business?"

"That depends on the pie."

"Actually, ma'am, we ain't killed nobody in ages," Earl reassured her.

"What about that trucker last Tuesday?" Duke asked.

"Oh hell, he don't count. He was asking for it. Look, miss, under all that hair, Duke is just a big ol' puppy dog, and I already ate. What say you lower that. We won't hurt you, and unless you got silver buckshot in there, it won't really do much to either of us."

Loretta, seeing the wisdom of his words, laid her shotgun on the counter. "Well, you fellas seem nice enough, and you did save me some ammunition. Guess a free slice of pie ain't too much to ask in return."

She went to the rotating pastry display, currently empty save for half an apple pie.

"This sort of thing happen much around here?" Earl asked.