A/N: This story, I'm basically making it up as I write (it's what I do with all my stories), so if you guys have any suggestions for plot twists/scenes/characters or whatever you'd like to see in this story, then just mention it in a review and I'll try to thing it up in this story (and I'm not kidding, I seriously will do it).
Kevin sighed. "Ok, here goes."
There was an old lady that looked at him now. "Can 'ai help 'ya?" She said with a southern accent.
"Ummm…" Shit what's wrong with me!? "Uhhh…" He looked back at Travis, what an ass! "Do--do you have something to drink?"
"Sure do. What'll 'ya have?" The bony woman asked.
"Coffee. Juice? What kind of juice do you have? I mean sell. What kind of juice do you sell?" Damn it, this place was freaky.
"W-elle! 'Ai squeezed out some orange juice this mornin'. 'Ya see Doug here's a fa'ain!" She said smiling creepy, and gave the man a pat on the shoulder.
Kevin looked back, and found Travis staring at him.
"'Dat you're friend there?" She asked. "Tell him to com'on in. Have'nt had a many customers 'dis mornin'."
"Sure, thank you ma'am," Kevin said looking at the woman, and signalled for Travis to come in.
Ring! Went the entrance bell. Travis walked in and stood right next to Kevin with a little reluctance towards the old woman.
"Ain't 'dis dandy! 'Mah name's Kerrie," she exclaimed.
"Travis," Travis muttered.
"Well, 'ya kids shouldn't be havin' coffee. 'Ya want mine fresh orange juice?" Kerrie asked.
"Sure," Kevin said. And Kerrie was gone into the kitchen. "Hey, she doesn't look that bad. I mean she's just old, kind of creepy, but old people are, right?" Said Kevin.
"Don't ask me man," Travis said.
Suddenly Travis gasped. "Oh my GOD! Kevin look there's mice trying to chew at the metal of the tables. Come on let's get 'outta here."
"Dude, we just told her to get us some juice, she'll be here soon. We can't leave," Kevin said.
"Yeah, well guess what? We are!" And with that said Travis grabbed Kevin by the shirt and rushed out.
"Holy shit! Dude what did you do to my bike? The tire's all fucked up," Kevin said looking at the tire of the front wheel of his bike. There was so much of the tire missing, as if someone had ripped it out, or chewed it out--a palm sized amount was missing.
"Hey I didn't do anything at all. When I left to go in that café it was just fine," Travis justified.
"Ugh! My mom's gonna' be pissed…"
"Don't tell her," Travis said. Then he suddenly gasped as if he just remembered something. "I've got an idea. I know this old place that sells tires really cheap, we'll go there tomorrow or something and we'll get you a tire. We can use your dads tools to fix it. How about that?"
"Sounds good. Dude as long as my bike's fixed I don't care," said Kevin.
"Don't sweat it. Wanna' get out of here now? All the mice are kind of creeping me out." Travis finished.
And with that they left the strange area, knowing little what was next to come. Because all it took was one simple encounter. One suspicion. One motivation. And one plan to take over the world.