Opened 24hrs

Smith had worked the same job for the last ten years, and ten years with no incidents. He took all the crap that came his way and never made a fuss. He had always heard that the secret to success is to be able to fall into a sewer and come out smelling like roses. Will smith didn't fall in; he was born there, your typical hard luck case. So when smith looked at this man on the stool next to him, he knew him. This man was smith, never catching a break and never getting ahead. This man was older though, much older. To smith it almost seemed like he was looking into a mirror. Was this going to be him in twenty years? Was he just going to get another dead beat job to work in for another twenty? Smith wasn’t eating; too much was on his mind to be shoveling things into his stomach.

Smith fingered the gun in his coat, slowly cocking and uncocking the gun. Trying to figure out another answer to his money problems. Just then a piece of pie was slid in front of him. He looked up at the waitress who looked to be in her fifties. She told him it was on the house. That was it he couldn't do it. It would be like pulling the gun on his grandmother, heck she even gave him cherry. He loved Cherry.

He nodded his thanks and she told him it looked like he needed a little pick me up. Her kind words where the last words he heard that night. A gun shoot went off right next to his head. The blast was deafening and dazed him for a moment. He could tell that someone had picked up where he had left off. He was afraid to move and stared straight ahead letting his vision focus. Seeing only his pie and the waitress cowering behind the counter.