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As Nicholas finishes eating his food, Static Man gets up and begins wandering the restaurant, inspecting the strange décor. He floats up to a wall-mounted clock, it is shaped like a cartoonish cow and in the center of the body is the clock face. There is text under the cow: “Yo, what’s up with the clock shaped like a cow,” the vague shape of Static Man’s arm points at the text, “it just… it’s Mooo o’clock. That’s not even a pun. Mooo o’clock?” He seemed not to have noticed that the hands of the clock appear to be stuck at two o’clock, that, or he didn’t get the joke.
Nicholas looks up from what is left of his salad to say, “I wouldn’t read too much into it.” Static Man continues to look at the walls, a portion is completely covered in road signs. The signs are haphazardly attached and overlapping in places, they all seem to be from various places, none of which Nicholas recognizes. Most of the text was nonsensical; the designs were garish and clashed with their neighboring signs. “The old road signs are cool though. Kind of kitschy, in a John Waters way,” Static Man comments, turning back slightly towards Nicholas.
Nicholas gave a hum of acknowledgement, he had no idea who John Waters was and had no intention of finding out. Static Man turned back to notice the jukebox, “Awwww, hell yeah, it’s a jukebox.” He moved closer, “there’s even a little, like, mascot or some shit on top. Huh, I don’t recognize any of the songs. What does the…” he reached out to press one of the buttons on the face of the jukebox.
The Clerk looked over at him, “don’t touch the jukebox,” she said firmly, but her warning came too late. The jukebox made a click and began dinging as she resignedly admonished Static Man, “why did you touch the jukebox,” glaring at him from across the diner.
Static Man hurriedly pulled his hand back from the machine, “I didn’t know I shouldn’t… why…”
Nicholas began to worry, “what’s going…” he was cut off by Moody Marvin’s stuttering and distorted voice. “Hello to all you hepcats, I hope you’re having a blast. I’m Moody Marvin, and I want to show you a good time.” There was a disjointed tune behind his cheerful voice, “did you have a refreshing Moody’s Family Friendly cola carbonated beverage? Good. Now, are you hepcats ready to listen to some music and dance? You have to d-d-dance! Dance!”
Once the message was finished, the Clerk looked around, slightly panicked, her eyes fell on Nicholas and then darted back to Static Man. “You,” she said, pulling Nicholas from his seat and over to the jukebox, “you guys have to dance.” Nicholas stumbled behind her, his cane left in the booth, “Me? I’m… not exactly a dancer.”
“Oh, cool, I don’t care,” she snarked at him while pushing him towards Static Man; Static Man steadied Nicholas and the jukebox began to speak again. “I hope you’ve got your dance partner, I do love seeing hepcats hold each other close. Remember, if I don’t like your dancing,” Moody Marvin’s voice became more menacing, “I might get even Moodier.” A distorted laugh followed that threat, switching rapidly between being too fast, too slow, and a normal laugh. His voice went back to its previous jovial tone, “now, let’s listen to a song from way back. It’s Carlos and the Calendars with… Someone to Hold.”
A 50's-esque tune began to play as Nicholas and Static Man simply stood there, the Clerk rolled her eyes with her arms crossed over her chest, “now dance, assholes!” Nicholas looked up at approximately where Static Man’s face should be, “follow your lead?” He asked half jokingly. Static Man looked nervously at the Clerk, “Are you sure there’s nothing we can do? I could fuck up the jukebox?”
“Nope!” The Clerk shook her head and waved her hands at them in a shooing motion, “Just dance!” The two began to do something like a dance, it looked similar to how a child who had seen a waltz once might imitate it. It was, however, less coordinated than a waltz should be, more of a swaying motion with steps added to move in a small circle in front of the machine. Each had one arm slung around the other’s waist, their free hands were clasped together and raised together at shoulder height—Nicholas shoulder height to be exact. It was clear neither of them had ever learned to properly dance. The twangy guitar of the song continued around them, the rhythm of the song did not align with their rhythm.
Static Man adjusted how his arm had settled around Nicholas’s waist and leaned down slightly to murmur into Nicholas’s ear, “well at least you won’t have to worry about one of us stepping on the other’s feet.” Nicholas shuddered slightly at the sensation. “Is something wrong Nicholas,” Static Man pulled back slightly, his still hushed voice sounded concerned. “Is this bothering your leg?”
“Oh. No it's nothing like that,” Nicholas assured him, “it just… feels strange to touch you for so long, it's like pins and needles sort of.”
Static Man leaned back even further. “Oh, sorry about getting us into this then,” Static Man gave a stilted laugh, clearly still feeling guilty, “I could, uh, move a little further away I guess?”
“No,” the Clerk interjected before he could move any further, “you need to be close.”
Nicholas half smiled up at Static Man, “don’t worry, it's not necessarily a bad feeling… it just… takes getting used too. That’s all.” Static Man seemed to relax slightly at this.
The pair continued shuffling around but the music was beginning to die out. Once it fully stopped and so did they, “Was that enough?” Nicholas asked. Their arms still hovered where they were, unsure if they’d need to continue.
“Let’s goddamn hope it was,” the Clerk replied, and Moody Marvin began to speak once more. “That was Carlos and the Calendars with… Someone to Hold, and I’m Moody Marvin, hoping you found someone to hold while that song was playing.” His voice grew menacing once more, “because if not…” and another distorted laugh, this one more of a dark chuckle. “Let’s see… it looks like the dancing was… adequate. Sorry you didn’t get any prizes, but hey, better luck next time. At least you didn’t…” his voice faded out once more and Nicholas and Static Man stepped away from each other.
Nicholas headed to the booth to sit back down and Static Man followed, apparently having had enough exploration of the mystical diner. “I’m assuming it would have been… unpleasant, if our dancing wasn’t adequate?” Nicholas asked her.
“Let’s say yeah,” she turned her attention back to Static Man, “why the hell did you touch the jukebox?”
Static Man raised his arms in surrender, “You didn’t tell me not to! I was just taking a look!” He sounded defensive, how was he meant to know? “I really don’t know what the hell you two are doing here, but just a tip, don’t go touching things at random in the blacktop.” Her tone turned from condescending to accusing yet curious, “what are you two doing here, by the way?”
Nicholas hesitantly told her, he knew it sounded strange, but rituals tended to do that. “We’re…here to complete a ritual. To find an empty body. I’m…” he looked meaningfully at Static Man, “fulfilling a promise.”
She hummed dismissively, “Creepy. I just remembered that I don’t actually care why you’re here.” She took on a falsely cheerful tone, “Do you… two hepcats want dessert?
“We’ll be fine”
Static Man chimes in, “Oh, dude. Actually, I would-” Nicholas cuts him off and repeats “we’ll be fine,” this time more assertively. Cautiously he asks the Clerk one more question, “May I ask what you’re doing here?”
There is a moment of silence where the Clerk glares at him, the jaunty diner music played, and finally she said “no” in a clipped manner.
Nicholas sighs lightly, he had not really expected an answer for that question anyway. “In that case, if I could get a doggy bag? We should get going.
“Probably for the best,” she says to him, and gestures to the table, “doggy bag’s on the table.” Nicholas looks down to find the bag that had not been there seconds ago, surprised, “Ah… That it is.” He reaches for the bag, “alright, we’ll… take our leave.”
He quickly packs away the remains of his salad and they head for the door, Nicholas turns back, “Goodbye,” it's a very awkward farewell, like he’s not sure he even wanted to say it. Static Man follows suit and waves, “yeah, bye.”
“See you around. And please, whatever you’re doing, get it done quick.” Her voice grows condescending again, “I really don’t want to see you again.” Nicholas pushes open the door and they leave to the sound of the bell on the door ringing above them. It is a short walk back to the car, the gravel of the parking lot crunching under Nicholas’s feet and his cane.
Static Man breaks the silence as they reach the car, “Dude, you okay? I-I’m sorry… about the jukebox. I really didn’t know.”
“I’ll be fine,” his voice is warm as he reassures Static Man, “and no apology necessary, you couldn’t have known.” They get in the car and Nicholas buckles his seatbelt, “ready to head out?” Static Man asks him.
“Yes, definitely,” Nicholas replies as he starts the car, the radio resumes to a male DJ, “and now… get ready for some smooth jazz.” What follows is decidedly neither smooth, nor jazz. Nicholas pulls back out onto the road and Static Man asks him, “So… are you gonna finish your salad?”
Nicholas huffs a soft laugh, “yes, you can have my salad,” and they continue on their path.