REAL WORLD: PART THREE Homeward Bound ... - Whoa is (Not)

“And this,” Zeran Laivon announced, “is Joe’s – The Restaurant at the End of the Space-Time Continuum.
Hungry”
“Yeah,” Luke said, gazing at the little building before them. The three of them had been walking ever since,
and he wanted some place to rest his feet.
Joe’s was a more friendly-looking place in the daytime than it was at night, not that Luke had ever seen it at
night. Zeran pushed open the doors and they entered, to be hit at once by the cheery jukebox music.
Glass windows covered most of the walls, letting in on all sides the strange radiance of the Nexus. At night,
the encompassing darkness gave the place a surreal feeling; those customers who didn’t like it could make
use of the wooden blinds that hung, rolled-up, at intervals along each large window.
The assortment of creatures that filled the restaurant reminded Luke of the Mos Eisley Cantina back home.
Joe’s was located in several universes at the same time, as well as in the Nexus. It was to those other
universes what other universes were to the Nexus; people would just walk in from either end of the street,
enter the restaurant, and leave the same way, vanishing into the rest of their world once they left this stretch
of road.
Faceless waiters with bowties moved soundlessly through the restaurant, serving patrons. They were the
height of an average human being, and realising this reminded Luke with a jolt that he was now physically a
child. They looked so tall to him; in fact, a lot of things did now.
There was something darkly nostalgic about that. Either way, it put things into a new perspective.
Zeran led the way through the crowd and went up to the bar-cum-register. “Hi, Tom,” ae greeted.
Tom the bartender grunted. “What d’you want”
“Uh, give me a Pepsi. And…” Zeran turned to Luke. “Ever tasted churkey”
“No,” Luke said.
“Okay, and he’ll have the roast churkey set, and…”
Tom planted the Pepsi can on the counter. “2 PH for the drink, and you know you’re not supposed to order
food here. The waiters are there for a reason.”
“Those things are freaky,” Zeran said. “I mean, what’s with the bowties”
Tom glared. “They do their job.”
Zeran shrugged, paid up, took the Pepsi, and they went off in search of an empty table.
One of the faceless bowtie-wearing waiters came up to them when they were seated, and waited silently for
their order.
“’kay, we’ll have one roast churkey set for Luke here, one grilled raynfish for me, and a small Portman pizza
and one glass of Beatlejuice for her,” Zeran said, averting aer eyes from the waiter’s bowtie.
< We’re out of Beatles, > telepathised the waiter.
Tasel looked disappointed. “All four of them”
< Yes. >
“Oh, all right then,” she said. “Replace that with a dinkberry smoothie.”
The waiter glided off silently.