fandomtownies | Luke's, Wednesday (Daylight)

Right. So. Apparently Regina wasn't going to clear up this curse at all quickly (she was good, but even she couldn't untangle where her curse was or was not intersecting with whatever was going on with this godforsaken island). Which meant that she really was the owner of a diner, so she really did have to be at least a little bit responsible for how it was running.

She'd run a bar, a town, and even an entire kingdom. At least one of those things she'd even done well, without resorting to dark magic. How hard could a diner be?

"I don't care which one of you started what," she told the kitchen staff. Which had apparently been previously run either like a day care or a three-ring circus. "You should not be trying to fence with the sharpening steels. For heaven's sake, you're not even doing it well!" She snatched the steel from the man in the apron and pointed him at the stove. "Now get back to work before I decide to fire you all and turn this place into an automat!"

The man in the apron exchanged looks with the one in the rubber gloves. "We don't have our specials yet."

"Oh for --" Regina stalked over to the specials board.

Today's specials
Corned beef on rye
Apple pie

"Those aren't very special," the young man holding the mop said. And then turned and ran before Regina could turn around and level her glare on him.

Luke's was open.

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"Winged thing - like a bat, not a bird, about this big." Miguel held up his hands a few feet apart. "Some sort of parasite from another galaxy or something. They mostly leave us alone, but sometimes one gets out and we have to shove it back in there."

“So now there’s a sci-fi story too. Great.” She looked back at the freezer again, expression going soft. “Henry would be loving this.” She tilted her head. “Well. Not the skinless dogs.”

"Story?" Miguel asked. "And hey, to be fair, I don't think anybody likes the skinless dogs."

“Oh, I suspect someone must,” Regina said. “There’s no accounting for taste, after all. And yes, story. From what I hear you all have moved through several so far this summer.”

Miguel thought about that. "Ah. I call them dimensions. Whatever, though, yeah - it's been a different one every week for a while now. I'm hoping it settles down soon, preferably somewhere that isn't a nightmare."

“Dimensions, Realms of Story.” Regina shrugged. “However you want to make sense of things. What surprises me is that none of you seem to know why your town’s traveling.”

Miguel snorted. "This island pretty much does whatever it wants whenever it wants. Asking why is pointless. Pudding rain? Attacking snowmen? A different world every week? Must be Fandom."

Regina raised an eyebrow at that, unimpressed. “I helped raise an Author, young man. I assure you, there is always an intent.”

"Not sure what that means, but just because the island may know why it's doing this, doesn't mean anyone else does," Miguel pointed out. "Having a reason's different from letting anyone know it."

“And that’s the second time in a matter of days someone’s referred to the island as though it was sentient,” Regina observed. “What, is it an ancient slumbering god or something?”

"No idea," Miguel confessed. "I've been told it's semi-sentient, though."

Luke's, Wednesday (Daylight)

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