The multiverse is filled with fascinating tales of mystery, science fiction, horror, fantasy, comedy, drama, and suspense. They are all brought together in "Ant Colony," an anthology of original stories that will make you think, make you laugh, make...
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New Jersey, 1989
The "Kettle & Pot" diner had been running for three years near the turnpike. Its proprietors were the Kettleman siblings – Greg, a slightly overweight cook and the oldest; Andrew – the middle child, fit and handsome; and Debbie – the youngest, a lethargic yet attractive blond. Together, they invested a lot into the diner, but it had seen better days in its third year of service, with the wallpaper peeling off, gunk on the tables, and the leather cracking off the seats. They were losing more and more customers by the day. Regardless, they continued putting in the work.
Well, Greg and Andrew did, at least. They made what they assumed to be their final investment with an automatic grinder. The UPS delivery boy left it outside the diner for the brothers to wheel in on a hand truck, while Debbie sat at the back corner, her eyes glued on the mounted TV set, per usual. She was engrossed in an episode of The Twilight Zone when suddenly...
PLOOP!
She jumped right off the bar stool with a loud yelp, feeling something drop down the back of her denim cutoffs and make contact with the tip of her butt crack. Her cheeks clenched, ensnaring whatever the unknown item was until she pulled it out.
A pencil. A damned pencil.
Greg and Andrew, taking a momentary break from hauling the new grinder, stood and laughed as Debbie held the butt pencil in hand. "Screw you assholes!" she snapped, slamming the pencil down on the counter.
"Hey, hey! Not there!" Greg bellowed, rushing to remove the pencil from the counter and wipe the area down. "Now after where it's been!"
"I just showered, ya dick!" Debbie argued.
Andrew shook his head, snickering. Debbie would have been the perfect supermodel, if she applied herself. But, because she dropped out of high school at just a grade shy of graduating, she was left by the system to be a beautiful 22-year-old nobody who lived in the upstairs apartment with her two older brothers. Greg would have thrown her out on her own, had Andrew not took pity on her.
Just as the brothers were about to get back to work, and their sister back to the TV, the door dinged from the arrival of a customer. There was always a fleeting wave of joy in the siblings when they heard it – "fleeting" because it would always be the same customer: Dave.
A 37-year-old African-American construction worker who was currently involved in the development of a new movie theater just a few blocks from Kettle & Pot, Dave had been coming to the diner since its grand opening. The first day that the Kettlemans started serving customers, Dave came in with his wife, Jill, and then-two-year-old son, Terry.
Debbie always enjoyed it whenever Dave brought Terry to the diner, just as much as Terry himself. "C'mere and give me a hug, Tweak!" She crouched down with her arms wide open in invitation. Terry rushed right up to her, wrapping his little arms around her neck. Debbie stood up, carrying him; he was a rather light little fellow for the five-foot-six Debbie. "Ready to play another round of Street Fighter?"
