Children of the All-Nite

"You haff traveled far, yes?"

Clancy glanced up. The waiter was an old dude with a mustache that drooped below his chin. His eyes looked red in the dim light. Probably toking up in the back. Clancy tried not to stare past the man at the trio of half-dressed women in the corner booth. He'd gotten bad vibes from truck stop ladies before, but these three were downright predatory.

"Ayup," said Clancy. "Just looking for some scrambled eggs and a coffee."

"Ah, here ve do not drink... coffee." The old man gestured. "But please, sit down. You are our guest, and ve must see to your comfort in every way."

"I'm just here for a quick bite—"

The oldster ignored him, staring out the window at his truck, HARKER TRANSPORTATION blazoned across the side. "Listen," he said, as the howl of a distant truck's air brakes sounded, rolling down the mountain. "You hear, the roads are hazardous in these times. You will stay." He turned and smiled at Clancy, and his teeth were white and sharp.