Chuck’s Steakhouse: Part One

The beat up truck pulled up to the old steakhouse and three guys climbed out from the single front seat. Gary slammed the passenger door shut and took a few steps toward the restaurant, furrowing his brow and looking back at Mike who had suggested the place. Gary’s younger brother Jack climbed out of the truck also looking confused.

Mike didn’t notice the reluctance, slammed his driver door shut, and got halfway to the entrance before realizing they weren’t following.

Mike turned around and said, “What? You guys too high class for this joint?”

Gary and Jack looked at each other, then back at the restaurant. Even in the dark the place looked run down. It resembled a saloon like in an old western, but one that was just plain falling apart. The floorboards of its wrap-around porch were warped from exposure to rain through the holes in the sagging extended roof. The letters on the sign for the place had completely peeled off leaving “Chucks Steakhouse” spelled out in only faint glue residue.

Gary looked at Mike and said, “Yeah, I reckon we may be too high class for this place.” Jack chuckled.

“Come on, I ain’t driving all the way back to town at this time of night, and I’ve heard this place is good!” Mike said.

Gary and Jack still looked unconvinced.

Mike continued, “Well they’ve gotta have beer in there right? And you can’t screw up opening a bottle of beer now can ya?”

“Okay, okay, we’ll stop yanking your chain and go to your shitty restaurant.” Gary said jokingly as he began walking towards the entrance with Jack following behind.

They entered the dimly lit restaurant and approached an empty host’s podium. Looking around they immediately noticed it was completely empty. The double doors to the kitchen suddenly flew open and a host with a broad smile appeared behind the podium. The teeth that made up the man’s smile were as yellow as his eyes and sickly complexion. His black oily hair was combed flat against the head that topped his bony frame. He looked like a skeleton that had been given life.

“Welcome to Chucks Steakhouse!” he said excitedly. “My name is Chuck, and yes I’m the one the steakhouse is named after!” He let out a cartoonishly loud laugh, making the men jump, “How many in your party?” The host continued smiling and stared intently at the men. They were silent for a moment, taking in his disturbing appearance and jarring liveliness.

Mike finally cleared his throat and stepped forward to answer, “Uh...um...three. Yeah we got three here.”

“Great! Follow me!” Chuck said without relaxing his smile.

Mike looked back at the others and shrugged his shoulders before following as if to say, “Well, it’s too late to turn back now.”

They were seated at a round table in the very center of the restaurant and Chuck handed them menus.

“Anything to drink tonight?” he asked them.

Gary was ready with an answer, “Yer cheapest bottled beer all around, please and thank ya.”

Chuck suddenly laughed loudly again.

“Beer is beer, I couldn’t agree more!” Chuck continued to chuckle and slapped Gary on the back as if they were old friends. Gary was caught by surprise at the strength behind the blows, if he didn’t know any better, he would have thought a body builder had been slapping him on the back.

Chuck quit laughing and said, “I’ll go get you guys those beers!” he left the table and went back into the kitchen.

“Well that’s the weirdest guy I’ve ever met.” said Jack, breaking the silence.

Gary let out a snort-laugh. “I second that, he almost knocked the wind outta me!”

“So, I guess he’s our waiter too?” Mike said.

“I guess.” Gary said, “He’s the owner, the host, the waiter...”

Jack picked up a menu and jabbed one of the pages with his finger before closing it and tossing it in the center of the table.

“Welp I’ve decided, I’m in the mood for some ‘World Famous Porterhouse Steak’ and a ‘Get the hell outta here as fast as possible’ what about you guys?” said Jack.

Gary grabbed Mike’s menu out of his hands and tossed their menus onto the table as well, “That sounds pretty damn good Jack, we’ll get the same.”

Mike sighed but didn’t protest the selection being made for him, that was just Gary’s personality. He was a gruff, get ’er done type that didn’t care about manners. It made for a well balanced friendship between them, as Mike was more put together and usually able to smooth over situations Gary would get them into.

Mike said, “Well I hope to God he ain’t the cook too, you know what they say about not trusting a skinny chef.”

“What? What’s wrong with a skinny chef?” Jack asked.

Before Mike could answer Chuck was back with their beers, still sporting that wide yellow smile. He took his time handing them out, and Mike noticed something strange. He seemed to sniff deeply and slowly while leaning over Gary to place his beer in front of him. He moved on to Jack, sniffing deeply again while serving Jack’s beer, a look of pleasure and anticipation on his face. He seemed to be drooling as well, taking time to frequently pat his mouth with a cloth he had draped over his shoulder.

“He’s not smelling them, is he?” Mike thought to himself, “and salivating?”

Mike stiffened as the host moved on to serve him. Chuck leaned down and inhaled deeply, similar to what he’d done to Gary and Jack except this time more indulgently. He placed Mike’s beer on the table and stood up again. The hairs on Mike’s neck were on end as he looked up at Chuck. Chuck was still smiling, but now his lips twitched as he continued to drool, and his yellow teeth were nearly chattering with excitement. His gaze was absolutely predatory and bone-chilling. Chuck looked away from Mike and composed himself, dabbing his mouth with the cloth again.

“Well gentlemen, are we ready to order?” Chuck said.

to be continued...