John's All You Can Eat Buffet (Fiction)

John Watson, of "John's All You Can Eat Buffet" stared at Irene and wondered, "How can any woman eat that much?" He peeked under the table hoping to see if there was some trick. He thought briefly that he was being Punk'd but doubted that Ashton Kutcher had any interest in a small town Maine Buffet. Still, no woman, no matter what her size should be able to eat 2 roast ducks, a large plate of sweet potatoes and half a mince pie!

He stood behind her quietly and watched. His temples throbbed and he fidgeted from foot to foot. Exasperated, he blurted out, "OK, so where are you putting it
Madam?"
"Pot--ting vhut?" Irene asked, with her mouth full, yet her teeth and greasy lips stripping a duck leg clean.

"Where are you putting all that food? There is no way you can eat that much at one setting!"

Irene choked down her duck and looked incredulously at John, "Well I never! Are you insulting me? Calling me fat? Look at your big gut before accusing me of being overweight. What a cheapskate you are, insulting me to save a few cents!"

John had made his gambit and failed. He sucked in his stomach and looked around for a place to hide, but finding none, tried a feeble retreat,

"I was, well, I was just kidding Madam, it's good to see you eat."

It was a weak effort, as Irene's glowering eyes showed, but it allowed him the time to backpedal and leave from where he had entered.

John hunched in a corner outside the entrance, the neon light flickered, "Eat at John's" intermittently showering him in light and dark. He replayed the luncheon scene over and over again; the more he played the situation back, the more he felt shame for his foolishness. Guilt overcame him and he knew he had to apologize.

Eventually Irene rose from her table and slowly waddled to the exit. There her eyes met John's and he put his hand out as if to speak to her. She shrugged away in a show of indignation and proceeded to her car. She opened the door and was about to get in when John called her from behind, "Madam, one second, I need to apologize."

Irene closed her car door and stepped forward, "You want to apologize? Make it quick!" She demanded.

However, as she stepped forward, her coat began to tug. She had unwittingly
slammed  the hem into her car door and as she walked toward John, it pulled readily from her plump frame.

His eyes bulged as he stared at Irene. There she stood, a thinly built woman with three large rubber bladders attached around her waist. He instantly realized what they were,"Ah ha!" He yelled like Sherlock Holmes discovering one of Professor Moriarty's insidious plots. "I was right, you were putting the food in those bladders! I knew you couldn't eat that much!"

The police arrived at John's All You Can Eat Buffet shortly after neighbors called, hearing gunfire. There on the pavement, near the curb lay John, in a pool of blood.

The Cops chalk-lined the body, finger printed everything in sight and looked for spent shells, but in the end, they figured it had to be a stray bullet from a drive-by shooting since everyone loved John. After a few weeks of shelf-life, the Commander closed the homicide for lack of leads...there were bigger cases to crack.

Irene added her Roast Duck, Sweet Potatoes and Mince Pie to a podium. The room was littered with similar wooden stands. On each there was a meal under glass, and under each, a plaque. Irene added one to the Roast Duck meal that read, Dinner, October 14, 2005 at John's All You Can Eat Buffet. Next to that there was an empty podium with a plaque that read, Dinner, November 17, 2005 at The Won Ton Cafe. Irene has reservations there for tonight.