<div class="floatleft">(http://i1007.photobucket.com/albums/af196/daisygirl1200/ddf435a3-2926-47ca-a945-2846ded513d5.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: andale mono;">Jack snatched up a slightly sticky menu from the stack tucked between the napkin dispenser and the salt and pepper shakers and looked it over as if he hadn’t eaten in this very booth a couple hundred times. The menus were probably at least two decades old and you could tell it from the wear and tear clearly visible by the crumpled edges and random miscellaneous stains and old color crayon doodles. Still. Jack always held out hope that something delicious and new would appear on it. Hey. Stranger things had happened in this town.<br/><br/>And speaking of strange. Jack let his gaze flicker over the top of the menu to take in the Probie seated across from him. Jordan Michaels. Jack tried to pull any information that name might trigger from his brain. Seemed to him there was a Michaels place over on 7th. Or was that 6th. Some days is was both depending on whether or not those dimensional rifts were acting up. And wasn’t there some Michaels living up near the Oak Park edition up near Radon Canyon? So named of course for all the sage brush in the area. He couldn’t be sure.<br/><br/>He let his gaze catalog the kid across from him. She seemed a little nervous under his stare. Fidgeting a bit and the like. Jack would be suspicious if not for the fact that he’d been sent here by the Sheriff to meet her. Besides, some people just reacted that way to authority. And he was mighty spiffy and imposing in his uni if he did say so himself.<br/><br/>“So tell me kid, what made <em>you</em> want to become a cop?” His eyes flickered to the neon green strip in her hair. She didn’t really strike him as the kind of straight laced Joe the Sheriff usually selected for the secret police. (There were five guys named Joe in the unit alone.) And again, not just because of the whole girl thing. Where was the regulation haircut, the shipshape wardrobe? The blank faced unquestioning subservience to authority? Jack was pretty sure there was a skull and cross bones stamped on the pocket of her T shirt. Not that he could check it out exactly because the pocket was over the top of her right…erm.<br/><br/>Jack dropped his eye rather than letting them wander their way into a harassment suit and checked out the menu, trying to decide what was doing for breakfast. The Egg platter was good. Although you never really knew what <em>kind</em> of eggs you might get. And there was that unfortunate incident with the Emu eggs a couple months ago. Jack suppressed a little shudder. Probably pancakes. Pancakes were usually safe.<br/><br/>He might have noticed her face paling out even further after his question if he hadn’t been distracted by the fact that someone had added “Whole Wheat” under short stack on the menu in green crayon and drawn a snake tongue next to it. Jack’s lips turned down in a frown. Very funny. Everyone knew they stopped serving Wheat and Wheat By-Products after the Sheriff helped the city council make all Wheat and Wheat By-Products disappear about a year back. It’s all fun and games until people get sent to live in the permanent quarantine behind Mission Grove Park. <br/><br/>Thank God for Almond flour though. Jack loved him some pancakes. And where the hell had someone come up with a crayon from? Writing utensils were banned in Night Vale for good reason. Jack didn’t remember exactly what it was, the Sheriff said once, not that he cared. They were banned. Jack could have pursued the crayon thing, but then he would have had to work over breakfast. That was just bad for the digestion. <br/><br/>So focused on his internal ramblings was he, Jack almost missed the kid’s slightly mumbley “Oh, um, you know... I want to…help….yea, Night Vale I mean, the people.” <br/><br/>A little “hrmph” slipped out followed by a “<em>Not that they’ll thank you for it. Not even for the carnations,</em>” mumbled under his breath. Then a little more clearly. “I’m having the pancakes kid. What’re you having?” as he slipped the menu back in its home and reached for his coffee.</span><br/>