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Porker's (11/11, 6:21 pm)

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Post by Hollis Brown Sun Nov 01, 2015 1:40 pm

Porker's (11/11, 6:21 pm)

Art Blakey's rendition of "Got My Mojo Working" plays energetically from the restaurant speakers.

The hostess working this afternoon has long, curly red hair in an updo. She wears dark red lipstick and frequently shows her white teeth when she smiles. She has blue eyes and freckles. She wears the customary Porker's tan apron, over a white collared shirt and black pants.

Elsewhere in the restaurant, Mil Bradley and Lesley Kozlov are sitting across from each other at a booth. They are conversing over their dinner. Mil is eating pork chops, with a side of asparagus, and Lesley is eating a thick burger housed between two pretzel buns.

The man in the black suit, meanwhile, is walking aimlessly through the restaurant. He appears to be looking for something.
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Post by Cliff Alset Sun Nov 01, 2015 5:54 pm

Scheduled for the night shift, Cliff works diligently to prepare several orders of fried chicken steaks and hamburgers. He rushes back and forth between a simmering pot of beef stew and the shuffling of sliced onions next to the beef patties. While stirring the pot of beef stew, Cliff glances quickly out over the front counter. He seems nervous tonight---more nervous than usual.
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Post by Jackson_Lee Sun Nov 01, 2015 8:06 pm

Jackson pulls up to Porker's, managing to find a parking spot that just opened up near the front door. Thankful to have the next few nights off, he has a near unquenchable thirst for a beer. Stepping out of his truck, and closing and locking the door, he steps inside the restaurant. He makes a line directly for the bar, and sits down near the front counter. He nods to the bartender and calls out, "A Guinness", his New Zealand accent could be clearly heard. As Jackson reaches for a menu, he looks up and momentarily, awkwardly meets his eyes on Cliff's nervous gaze. Jackson is good at reading body language, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was something more to Cliff's nervous glance. But for now, he didn't give it any more thought, and waited for his Guinness to arrive.
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Post by Cameron Johnson Sun Nov 01, 2015 10:55 pm

I walk into Porker's and I wave timidly at Mil and Lesley. Seeing as they are waist deep in their meals I make my wave brief as I do not wish to disturb them further. Having been in this town for a little over a month now, I'm becoming dangerously close to getting attached to this town and the people here. In spite of my fears of attachment, I still feel the pangs of loneliness seep in to my flesh far more often than they used to. It is because of this feeling that I figure I should try and make at least what is a semblance of a friend. I go up to the bar and notice a figure there that I have not seen before. I sit down leaving a stool in between us as to not freak the guy out. I notice Cliff is working tonight and he looks awfully nervous. I give him a concerned look and wave to him in a haphazard manner. "Hey bartender." I say softly. Not sure if they heard me, I say again, "Hey bartender." "Jesus Christ." I mutter under my breath. "CAN I JUST GET A PABST BLUE RIBBON?!"
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Post by Jackson_Lee Mon Nov 02, 2015 3:03 pm

Jackson nods to the gentleman who sat near him. "How ya doin' mate?" Jackson then couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the gentleman's sudden outburst at wanting a PBR. "I wonder if that bartender doesn't hurry, if he doesn't end up at the bottom of the well soon." Jackson chuckles quietly to himself.
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Post by Cliff Alset Mon Nov 02, 2015 5:08 pm

(DING DING) "Order up", Cliff announces. He turns and grabs a bowl of beef soup and sits it next to the hot plate of chicken-fried steak. He glances back and forth at the two men talking. Cliff goes back to the grill. Once again he turns and with wide eyes stares out over the counter---beyond the two men.
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Post by Hollis Brown Sat Nov 07, 2015 6:44 pm

The bartender returns momentarily with Jackson's and Cameron's drinks. The bartender is a solemn man in his early forties, and although hearing the conversations around him, he does not say anything more than he feels is necessary.
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Post by Jackson_Lee Sat Nov 07, 2015 7:29 pm

"Thanks, mate." Jackson quietly said, swiftly grasping the glass of Guinness in his right hand. He sipped at the frothy head of the beverage, before lifting the glass more, allowing the dark, murky fluid to spill out of the glass and into his mouth. He set the glass down with a satisfied sigh. He looked to the bartender before his gaze drifted to the gentleman seated next to him. Jackson felt eyes on him again, and looked to the cook in the kitchen who appeared to be gazing past Jackson. Jackson cocked a brow and twisted his neck, his body following suit as he looked outside. "The hell you lookin' at, mate?" Jackson mumbled under his breath, turning back to the bar to take another long drink from his cold mug of beer.
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Post by Cliff Alset Mon Nov 09, 2015 7:57 pm

Cliff turns to dress the plate of chicken steak. His hands are shaking. He carries the hot dinner to the ready order shelf and starts to ding the bell. The front door to the restaurant is wide open. A tall silhouette of a figure wearing a large cowboy hat is just standing there. Cliff freezes with wide eyes. "It's him." Cliff whispers. He drops the hot plate, almost breaking it. He glances quickly at the plate. When he returns his focus to the entrance door, only darkness remains. Cliff goes to the order bell and taps it. Again, with a shaky whisper he announces, "Order up." With a second, much louder pair of 'dings', he follows in a louder voice, "ORDER UP!'
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Post by Hollis Brown Thu Nov 19, 2015 4:34 pm

The tall man wearing a large cowboy hat walks past the hostess, unnoticed. No one in the restaurant registers his appearance-- in fact, only Cliff Alset is able to see him. The man stops and looks around him, at the tables occupied by different types of people eating quintessential American food. He reaches into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and pulls out a slip of paper. The paper is full of creases, having clearly been folded, unfolded, and refolded several times over.

The man holds the slip of paper tightly between his right index finger and middle finger, as he walks into the kitchen. He stands across from Cliff and extends the paper toward him.

"Message."
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Post by Cliff Alset Thu Nov 19, 2015 5:39 pm

Cliff stands frozen, holding a large silver spatula in his right hand. "What do you want? Why have you been following me?"
After a seething moment of silence, Cliff looks at the paper between the man's fingers. Then the eyes of the tall man in the cowboy hat start to glow. "I know you." The man moves his right hand closer to Cliff. Cliff takes the paper quickly, and steps back. He holds the paper straight out in his left hand---still gripping the spatula in his right. "What is this?"
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Post by Hollis Brown Sun Nov 29, 2015 8:20 pm

The man, who previously had showed no emotion, looks curiously at Cliff. He points toward the spatula, and what he does not say with words he says with his expression. His hand drops to his side, and he shrugs.

"A message," the man repeats. He looks toward the door that leads out of the kitchen. He then looks back at Cliff. "It's a message for you. No return address."

The man turns and walks toward the door, slowing down to a complete stop once he reaches the doorway. Glancing over his shoulder, he says, "And no. You don't know me, Cliff Alset."

The hostess runs into the kitchen suddenly. She passes through the man wearing the cowboy hat, and when she does so, he fades away. The hostess catches her breath, and then she says quickly, "There's this man... In a black suit... Walking around, claiming he can't find the exit... And when I tried to kick him out, he didn't seem to understand... He wants someone to walk him to the door, but we're understaffed as it is, and... I..."

The hostess, whose hands were on her knees, straightens her posture and lets her hands slide to her sides. "I just... I don't know what I need. I need a break," she says, laughing. "This job is killing me, Cliff." She clears her throat and looks back toward the door. "...I probably shouldn't be in the kitchen right now, should I? Shoot."
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Post by Cliff Alset Sun Nov 29, 2015 8:52 pm

Cliff lowers his large spatula, and looks out the counter where a new order is waiting---clipped to the circular frame hanging from above. He quickly glances out further to the front door. Then turns back to the hostess. "Well, don't worry. I just...I mean go ahead and take a break. My relief is supposed to be here any moment. Just take it easy, Christina. It'll be fine." Cliff looks at the folded paper in his hand. "Go on, take your break."

After the hostess turns and walks out, Cliff quickly unfolds the note. He reads the message: 'Go to the Well and listen deeply. You will hear her voice as the wind whispers.' Just as Cliff lifts his head he sees the relief cook heading toward the kitchen.
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Post by Hollis Brown Mon Nov 30, 2015 1:01 pm

PORKER'S IS NOW CLOSED
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