<div class="floatright">(http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTAK9_Qlhxy3QOMkqi-NaEYShJQtAm3rs2xZ0MDuHSGMIWNbiLb1A)</div>The ambient light of the swirling violet distortion and the muted thunder of the approaching helicopters painted an alluring picture against the back drop of mid morning Night Vale. Citizens gathered round to look on, clustered as close as they dared, pointing with<em>ooooohhhs</em>and<em>aaahhhhhhhs</em>. The vortex, though it was hungrily eating up the diner, was quite a breath taking sight. (Indeed several citizens reported feeling that the breath had been quite literally stolen from their lungs.)<br/><br/>It was into this postcard portrait of the small desert city that Carlos arrived, only moments before the choppers themselves. He had been just down the street at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex investigating the progress with lane five, when the call about the vortex came in. He stepped out of his truck, perfect hair caught majestically in the cross breeze of the helicopters; and fearlessly approached the diner, newly designed vortex distortion reader in hand.<br/><br/>Jordan and Jack were the only two left in the parking lot, the deputy still posed as if someone was going to be shooting the new SSP propaganda posters. The young intern was so relieved to see Carlos, to know that someone was in charge that could handle the situation. Before she could think more about it the choppers were landing and she had to throw up an arm to keep the dust out of her eyes. Suddenly it hit her, she now had to fool not just Jack, but all of these SSP officers.<br/><br/>How was she going to do that? Surely one of them would realize something was amiss, and she would be dragged off to the Abandoned Mineshaft never to be heard from again. Would her family know what had happened to her? Would they put her name on the memorial board in the intern break room after only a few hours on the job? The rising tide of panic warred with the sweet relief of knowing real science was tackling the diner problem. Jordan felt rather like she was being torn in two. Next to her Jack didn't seem to notice that she was on the verge of hyperventilating.<br/><br/>The black helicopters kept circling, unable or unwilling to land. On the ground swarms of SSP officers were cordoning off the area, sheriff's badges glinting like sparks of purple fire in the light of the vortex. Carlos came back around from the other side of the diner, one hand pushing through the majestic locks that perfectly framed his face, which was turned down studying the device in his other hand. A frown pinched his lips and he seemed to be muttering to himself. Suddenly he looked up, as if only just realizing that there were other people now that he was a mere foot away. He gestured with the strange contraption and started to say something when a loud squeal of feedback and the voice of the sheriff himself boomed out of the PA system.<br/><br/><strong>"Attention Night Vale citizens! The Moonlight Diner is now under strict quarantine. Vacate the premises immediately. I repeat vacate the diner and surrounding area immediately! Further bulletins will inform you if and when the diner still exists and it is safe to eat there. Thank you and remember to vote correctly."</strong><br/><br/>The voice cut off into a hiss of static and then the speakers went quiet. Jordan found herself staring at one, blinking slowly, unsure what to do. She looked over and realized Carlos was doing the same. Only Jack appeared to be unaffected by the announcement, still seeming to be waiting for the opportunistic photographer to happen along.<br/><br/>"Um, Jac- I mean, uh," her eyes darted from Jack to Carlos and back. "<em>Deputy Jaxon</em>, shouldn't we also vacate the area, like the sheriff said?"