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Description
The small diner was quaint and inviting, given its lonely position off a long stretch of straight highway out in the middle of some barely-explored countryside near the North and South Dakota border. That night was dark, as most nights are expected to be, quietly lit up by the incandescent tube lights within the diner and atop the sign marking its existence to the sparse travelers passing by. Inside the restaurant, a man about his mid-forties rested at the end of the counter, whistling as he carefully sorted the day's earnings into neat piles of ones, fives, tens, and twenties. A nametag on his left breast pocket identified him as 'Jim', the namesake of the establishment he sat in. A younger but still middle-aged waitress approached him from the direction of the restrooms, her nametag proudly displaying the name 'Sharon' on her right lapel.
"Hey, you want me to wash off these tables while you go clean up in the back?" She asked, picking up the empty plate that sat beside him. He nodded and got up, walking to the kitchen. A slender finger flipped on the radio and he started cleaning, beginning with putting the dishes away. In the far corner of the kitchen stood a heavy steel door with a sturdy padlock and chain keeping it secure. Once the dishes and a few other chores were completed, Jim walked back to the door and peered into the porthole window as two fingers depressed the cream button. The light fluttered on, then flashed off with a soft pop.
"Damn it…" he cursed softly, making his way to the storage closet nearby for a replacement bulb.
"That light go out again, Jim?" the waitress asked.
"Yeah, I gotta get some more of these next time we go out to the market…" he said. "Maybe get some of those new fluorescent ones; they're s'posed to last longer than these old things." The door opened after he slipped the key into the padlock and untangled the chain. A soft blast of cold wind ruffled his sandy brown hair as he entered the ten-by-ten freezer. A convenient step-stool sat in the corner near the door, which was rolled over to the centre underneath the hanging light fixture. Sharon wandered over, turning off the light switch as he removed the burnt bulb. "Eh, thanks," the male murmured after hearing the click of the switch.
"You're very welcome, Jim," she replied, a hand on her hip and a cheeky smirk on her lips. "You know I like you uninjured." Jim shook his head and glanced over his shoulder at her, screwing in the new bulb. The woman simply turned the light on once he was off the step-stool.
"Hey, she's new." He jabbed a finger towards the body of a woman who'd been recently placed in the freezer.
"Oh, yeah, she got a little nosy in the back earlier; the 'Stang out front is hers." Sharon grinned, then kissed her companion's stubbly cheek. "You like her?" He nodded and smiled at her as his arm wrapped around her waist.
"She'll sure fit in well with the rest," he purred, surveying the shelves laden with bloody human body parts. They both laughed.

Description
The small diner was quaint and inviting, given its lonely position off a long stretch of straight highway out in the middle of some barely-explored countryside near the North and South Dakota border. That night was dark, as most nights are expected to be, quietly lit up by the incandescent tube lights within the diner and atop the sign marking its existence to the sparse travelers passing by. Inside the restaurant, a man about his mid-forties rested at the end of the counter, whistling as he carefully sorted the day's earnings into neat piles of ones, fives, tens, and twenties. A nametag on his left breast pocket identified him as 'Jim', the namesake of the establishment he sat in. A younger but still middle-aged waitress approached him from the direction of the restrooms, her nametag proudly displaying the name 'Sharon' on her right lapel.
"Hey, you want me to wash off these tables while you go clean up in the back?" She asked, picking up the empty plate that sat beside him. He nodded and got up, walking to the kitchen. A slender finger flipped on the radio and he started cleaning, beginning with putting the dishes away. In the far corner of the kitchen stood a heavy steel door with a sturdy padlock and chain keeping it secure. Once the dishes and a few other chores were completed, Jim walked back to the door and peered into the porthole window as two fingers depressed the cream button. The light fluttered on, then flashed off with a soft pop.
"Damn it…" he cursed softly, making his way to the storage closet nearby for a replacement bulb.
"That light go out again, Jim?" the waitress asked.
"Yeah, I gotta get some more of these next time we go out to the market…" he said. "Maybe get some of those new fluorescent ones; they're s'posed to last longer than these old things." The door opened after he slipped the key into the padlock and untangled the chain. A soft blast of cold wind ruffled his sandy brown hair as he entered the ten-by-ten freezer. A convenient step-stool sat in the corner near the door, which was rolled over to the centre underneath the hanging light fixture. Sharon wandered over, turning off the light switch as he removed the burnt bulb. "Eh, thanks," the male murmured after hearing the click of the switch.
"You're very welcome, Jim," she replied, a hand on her hip and a cheeky smirk on her lips. "You know I like you uninjured." Jim shook his head and glanced over his shoulder at her, screwing in the new bulb. The woman simply turned the light on once he was off the step-stool.
"Hey, she's new." He jabbed a finger towards the body of a woman who'd been recently placed in the freezer.
"Oh, yeah, she got a little nosy in the back earlier; the 'Stang out front is hers." Sharon grinned, then kissed her companion's stubbly cheek. "You like her?" He nodded and smiled at her as his arm wrapped around her waist.
"She'll sure fit in well with the rest," he purred, surveying the shelves laden with bloody human body parts. They both laughed.