You know what I fucking hate most in this shithole called planet earth? Running this joke of a lame business of gas station and cafeteria named “Brilliant Gas - Café” in the middle of nowhere. I am not the owner of this place; I am the asshole’s son. Every now and then, and especially on slow winter days, I wonder what is so brilliant about the gas we provide or the horse piss coffee we proudly sell. Well you guessed it right, none whatsoever.

Today, however, is not a slow day – not a slow day at all. There’s this scruffy old guy bickering about how he asked for two creams in his coffee and had to make do with milk instead. The cute kid playing on the floor gave me a migraine every time he said “wrooof”…when his action figure took flight. His mom was nice though, on the run from husband, very pretty in every imaginable way, brown haired. I got the running part by overhearing her phone conversation. Quite the Sherlock am I not? Business was on auto-pilot that evening, no one had any rush to leave or bother me, and so I was enjoying a timeout with my Playboy magazine behind the counter. Nothing could possibly have gone wrong until the fifteen years old, who had just parked her Civic in the parking lot, came up to me and asked me to hand over all my cash. I was almost expecting she would bring out a gun or a knife. Instead she held a pocket watch in her hand?

I was like “Okay take all the money, but please explain why I should feel threatened by a pocket watch”. Instead two words came out of my mouth “No way”. She laughed hysterically and looked at her watch with wildest eyes I have ever come across and started to adjust the time on her watch. At each forward turn of the wheel she exclaimed “Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii” and clapped.

The old man at the table was shaking so much that he had to grasp his table to stay in place. The kid was staring at the new comer while biting his nail and scratching his tummy with the other hand. The superhero action figure couldn’t help and was taking a rest on the floor. Mommy dear, however continued her conversation on the phone, until the pocket watch girl got really loud with her “Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”. At that point, mommy looked at the girl and at me and back and forth, as if asking me to do something so that she can continue to converse peacefully. I told myself “Yes Captain Dan, it’s time to turn off auto pilot and take charge”.

Ah amazing, my phone had no signal, and it was not good to dial 911 from the pay phone for some obscure reason. The old man said “Ahem” from his table and nodded at me, to approach him. So I obliged and took a seat beside him. He sipped his coffee twice and composed himself to tell a story. Better make it really brief Sir, or I promise Sir, I will choke you.

I have been a bachelor all my life. After I retired, my sister - Audrey invited me to live with her family; comprising of her husband and five cats and four kittens and two dogs. Audrey and her husband Peter were love birds, until death did them apart and after the grieving phase was over Audrey sort of lost her mind. It happened one fine morning, after I poured my coffee and went to greet her in the garden. I said “Good morning Audrey” to which she said “What? How dare you call me by my name? It’s Your Majesty and do not forget to bow”. I went straight inside to check the date; it certainly wasn’t April the first. I came back and laughed and asked “What’s the deal Audrey? Did I do something to upset you”, and I nudged Tom (the Labrador) who was sitting on the other chair, so I could sit beside Audrey”

“How dare you push my Royal Guard?” she asked. And it was then I knew it was serious stuff I was dealing with. So I called the doctor who advised that she was suffering from a minor trauma due to her recent loss and there was not much to do except to play along for a while until she snapped out of it.

Well Sir I spent the following days as Audrey’s, sorry Her Majesty’s, butler, until she passed away, which was after 12 years. I loved my sister and I did not mind the faintest bit to take care of her as best as I could – drew her bath, brought meals to the table, drove her around, gave her royal guards a foot massage when they were off duty, brushed her nine daughters.

“You mind mentioning the morale of your story, for mortals?” I asked the gentleman. He pointed at the pocket watch girl and said, “She wants to kill us with time warp, she is trying to fast forward time and rot us out”.

“So what do you suggest we do? Play along? How exactly?”

“You have garbage? Stale food lying around? I am going to do some acting. Now that I am expert at this”

This was batshit crazy, I was adamant to find a more reasonable solution. I asked the mommy if I could borrow her phone to dial 911. To which she said, she didn’t want to get involved in this. Of course, she was on the run, bought a prepaid phone from somewhere on the way. Yes the old man’s idea was our only hope to get out of the madness. The pocket watch girl was focused on the watch and so didn’t notice that I swapped out the fresh donuts with stale ones, placed and opened a garbage bag behind the counter. The plan then was to get out of the café, after the old man did some dying noises. And wait until the pocket watch girl left.

We quietly gathered our essential belongings, put on our coats and stepped out into the snow, through the back door. One last “Whiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeee” was heard as the door shut behind us. There was no light at the back of the café. Mommy lit a cigarette and offered us – we helped ourselves.

“What a situation, eh?”, Mommy asked. The old man chuckled and I shook my head while blowing out a dense cloud.

I heard a rustling noise coming from the darkness on the left side and then two glowing red eyes and a pitch black hairy body – darker than the surrounding darkness. I have seen wild dogs and coyotes around here, I can vouch this was neither, and they never approached people anyway. It was much bigger in size and taller. The kid began to wail with fear, and the old man wet his pants.

I tried to open the back door, but it didn’t open from outside. I didn’t have the keys to the back door with me. So I whispered “Let’s quietly walk towards the other side and go around the café to the front door”. As we began to move, another similar shape appeared on the right – we were surrounded from both sides. I lifted the kid in my arms, held mommy’s hand and said “run”.

We ran straight. The old man froze with fear; his last words were “Galton Whistle, it’s not a pocket watch it’s a concealed Galton whistle”. Then the screams came, along with tearing of flesh like clothes being ripped. That night was a night to remember, or to forget. I married the mommy two years from then; her name is Diane by the way. Diane still shudders to think of that night. Cops couldn’t find any sign of assault, or animal attack, the next morning or any clues about the pocket watch girl. Even the Honda Civic was not to be found. The case file is still open.