The Mouse Trap

The artfully made sign above the door identifies this as The Mouse Trap. There's three other motorcycles parked next to it, and space for a dozen more.

Following Rita to the door, you look in to see the interior is made up like a classic 50s diner. The kind you picture with booths full of people enjoying some greasy burgers and milkshakes, though right now only one is occupied. There's even an old jukebox in the corner, but it's not playing the expected upbeat tune. It's blasting rock music instead.

Rita confidently pushes the door open and steps inside, heading straight for the counter. The apron-and-flannel wearing waitress behind it waves when she sees her approach. Rita waves right back.

"Donna, hi! Get me my regular, would ya?"

"Coming right up. And for your boyfriend?" The waitress asks with a wink at you.

"Uh, I'll have the waffles. With cherries and whipped cream, please." When Donna ducks into the kitchen you turn to Rita. "So, you come here often?"

The colorful rat laughs. "Is that a pickup line or are you actually asking? I come here a lot, and you caught me on my way out at FPI so I figured I'd take you with me. But it seemed more fun not to tell you where we were going. Ooh, can you guess what I ordered? I'll kiss you if you get it right!"

"Always with the kissing," you mutter good-naturedly and study the menu on the wall. "Is it a cheese omelette?"

"Right you are!" You brace yourself, but she only gives you a peck on the cheek. Still, her lips impact right as Donna comes out with a tray of food and she makes an approving sound, causing you to blush.

The server grins as she places a plate in front of each of you, then adds two shakes. "You didn't order a drink, but you'll like this one. Trust me."

You take a sip through the thick straw, and sure enough you like it. It's a milkshake, so it'd be weird if you didn't. The waffles are good too, as is the conversation that follows.