Good's Diner

Someday, you will be driving down a long, two-lane highway. There will be no other cars, no signs, no animals, not even any birds flying in the sky. Just you and the road, stretching for infinity through a barren desert.

You can drive forever down this road, never wavering. You can turn around, and drive back, if you like. Nothing will happen. You will continue to drive on forever, never seeing an end.

However, you might start to worry that you will run out of gas. If you look down to check your fuel gauge, you will notice it is a bit lower than the last time you checked, whenever that was. Time does not matter. Still, it will not be anywhere near empty, so you will continue to drive.

You might also feel a bit hungry. If you are to check your pockets or car for some food, you will not find any. You won't care much, as you are only a little hungry. You will continue to drive on, down the endless road.

As you drive on and on, you will grow hungrier. Your fuel gauge will be a bit lower every time you look at it. Eventually, when you have grown famished and you are nearly out of gas, you will see an old-fashioned gas station and diner. A large sign, saying "Good's Diner" will stand, with an O missing. Gas prices are listed below, but they are not of importance.

You will pull up, relieved to have found this place in your time of need, on this desolate stretch of road. You will fill up your car with gas, and go into the diner to eat. You will see a bar on your right, with several small stools. Some booths are to your left, and some bathrooms are in the back. The floor is covered with worn, checkered tiles, and the walls are paneled with wood. A few fans lazily spin in the ceiling above.

Your eyes will turn back to the bar, and you will see a man standing there, casually wiping at the counter with an old, torn rag. He's a large black man, maybe 60, with white hair and rough stubble. You can see the life in the creases in his face, as if he has experienced many things, that have worn their way through from his mind to the surface of his skin.

You can barely see his eyes, but you can tell they have warmth, and wisdom deep within, and when he looks up at you, you can sense something different about them. They say eyes are the windows to the soul, but this man's eyes are his soul, his very being contained within them. You will find yourself lost for a moment, but almost immediately you will snap back to reality.

Remembering your hunger, you will sit down to eat. Looking around, you will notice there are no menus, or signs saying what there is to order. If you ask the man for a menu, he will give you one, with all the typical diner food choices. He will prepare whatever you order, and serve you, with little conversation.

After you eat, you will pay the man, thank him, and leave. If you happened to look back, you would see the man with an expression of sadness, a sadness so great it makes your heart stop for a second. Then, you will turn your head and drive, drive on towards your destination. You will reach it, and forget all about the diner.

But, if you choose, do not ask for a menu. Ask instead, "What do you have to offer me?" The man will smile and respond, "What do you wish to have?" At this point, you can ask for anything in the world. Anything you wish to know, or own, or be, you can ask for, and the man will grant it to you. You can ask how the JFK assassination really happened.

Or you can ask to be able to fly. You can ask for a car from the future. Anything. The man will give it to you. After receiving it, you will leave. If you look back this time, the man will seem grief-stricken, almost to the point of tears. You will take off to your destination, but it will be emptiness. You will be left alone with yourself, and whatever it is you wished for.

However, if you are brave, there is one thing you can ask for, something terrible, yet powerful. You must ask for the last slice of pie in the large dish on the counter. When you ask for it the man will be solemn, and give you a quiet smile. "As you wish," he will say. Lifting the lid, he will serve the slice to you on a small silver dish, along with a small fork.

Take the fork and eat the pie. It will have no particular taste to you, your tongue will not be able to identify it. Eat it all, and then return your plate to the man. You will reach for your wallet. He will simply shake his head, and say, "It's on me." You will thank him and leave, getting into your car and driving away. If you glance back this time, the man will be pensive, looking away into the distance.

What does this pie do? Well, once you begin driving, you will begin to contemplate things. Thoughts will travel into your head, and you will know the origins of the universe. You will know who the true entity, the creator of this world is. You will know the secrets of the afterlife, and know everything of who you are. And only once you fully comprehend this information, will you leave the road.