Sugar

Uncle Zak's Diner

I made a long chapter that took all day because i was busy, love ya!

"Are you sure you haven't heard from your nephew, Mr. Trumble?"  The female Officer asks the fat man in the booth by the window.  HE wore a blue plad shirt, with a white tank top underneath.  On his head was a hat (uniform for his restaurant) and accompanied by reddish brown hair that matched his beard, showing only a few grey strands here and there.   He looked fairly young, maybe early 30s. 

"That monster killed my sister, I ever see him?  His screams will be what you'll be hearing."  The man growls out.

"Just maybe give us a call before things go that far."  She says nodding off to the man in the booth.  He says nothing slightly nodding back as the officer and her partner turn to leave the diner, the bell sounding their departure.  The man glanced at the three bowls on the table before him, jumping as a gun came up from under the table in the booth across  from him.

"Jeez there's a lot of gum under here,"  Jerome exclaims, climbing from under the table to sit in the booth correctly.  He wore all white, similar to when he was first running the streets and terrorizing Wayne Manor.  White pants, white longsleeved shirt, white shoes, white suspenders.

"You're lucky those flatfoots didn't check under the table uncle Zak,"  He says, grabbing a wad of gum stuck together from under the table.  "I mean,"  Jerome pops the old gum in his mouth. "Gotta be some kind of health code violation or somethin',"

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Harley watched from the inside of a stolen car her and Jerome had conjured up.  She was out of her Arkham uniform, dressed in black high-waisted shorts and a red and white t-shirt with the double lines on the sleeves.  She wore white gloves like Jerome, black wedged leather boots her blonde hair raised in neat pigtails with better hair-ties than what was offered in Arkham (Y'all know this struggle right?  There's good hair-ties and there's bad ones...am I the only one?😂)

She had a wooden baseball bat laid across her thighs, spinning a small dagger between her fingers, and her revolver in the cup holder next to her.  She sighed bored, stopping the dagger as an idea flashed into her head.  She grins smally and picks up her bat, pointing the barrel towards her and beginning to carve a heart into the top of the bat.  Inside she marked a J&H, her heart fluttering and a tingling feeling all over when she as finished, smiling fondly at her work.  

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Jerome clicks the miniature jukebox, letting the classy 50s music play while he assessed the bowl on the table, waving the gun in his hand around.

"Too cold," He says placing a finger in the first bowl.  Moving onto the next one.

"Ah!  Too hot!"  HE shakes off the soup from his finger, flicking his uncle n the face.

"Ouuu, just right,"  He chuckles, pulling the bowl to him. "Mmm, you always could cook up a storm, Unc,"  Jerome says, leaning over the table slightly.

"I remember back in the circus, we used to dare each other to sneak into the chuck wagon, steal one of your cookies or two.  That reminds me of one of my favorite meals you ever cooked."  Jerome says, a smile creeping onto his face when his uncle's scowl drops.

"You remember that time, caught me tryna snag a snickerdoodle?  Oh! That soup you made that day! Mm!  Mama Mia!"  Jerome grinds out, kissing his fingers dramatically. 

"What was the special ingredient again? Oh that's right..." Darkness settled over Jerome face, a dark piercing glare hitting his uncle in front of him. "It was my hand,"

"The one you dipped in a boiling pot of chicken stock!"  Jerome's anger flares.  "That sssmell, it was...mouthwatering,"  He cackles.  "Almost as good as this!"  Jerome adds, dipping his spoon into the soup to begin to eat.