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Fnord
The vestibule was festooned with family crests and various types of armor, and the walls were painted with mysterious looking symbols. The only entrance to the restaurant was through a door that was, at the moment, closed. While Ford seemed perfectly at ease, his arm around Lorna's waist, Jake shuffled uncomfortably next to Karen.
"Are you sure they're open?" Jake asked.
"Yes," Ford replied. "Positive."
"Not very busy," Jake mused. "I would've thought this place would be crowded. You said it was the new trendy place."
"It is," Ford replied. "Jake, one thing you need to learn about San Francisco is that hip restaurants come and go about every three days. There's always a newer, hipper place to go."
"Password?" A voice said from the general direction of the closed door. Jake and Ford turned around to find a pair of eyes looking back at them through a small slit in the door.
"Um, lutefisk?" Ford ventured.
"Wrong."
"Rutabaga," Jake offered.
"Wrong."
"Tony Soprano," Karen said.
"Wrong." This time, however, the panel started sliding shut.
"Templar!" Lorna yelled, just before it closed completely.
After a moment's silence, the door creaked open and they were led into the interior of the restaurant.
"Templar?" Ford asked.
"Well, this is the Club Illuminatae," Lorna smiled. "I took a guess."
The inside of the restaurant was done in exquisite whites and golds. Lace ruffles fell from every lamp, and the chandeliers were adorned with sparkling crystals. The four were led through the restaurant to a booth toward the back.
"Snazzy," Jake said.
"And private," Ford added. "They guarantee you won't have to listen to the droll conversations of your neighbors."
"That's always a plus."
"And," Ford continued, "they can't hear yours."
"So tell us about the little girl," Lorna said, after Ford had handed her jacket to the waiting coat-check girl.
"It was weird," Jake said. "She started channeling Chris."
"Really?" Lorna said. "So was she watching Teletubbies or singing DEVO songs in the shower?"
"Hush woman," Ford snapped. "She actually described Zvolen."
"She was Chris in a past life being strangled by him," Jake offered.
"I don't think she was channeling me," Ford said. "It's impossible for one being to live two parallel lives at once. I think she was just reading my mind somehow and pulled that memory out."
"Good evening," a waiter said with bored disappointment. "My name is Luke, and I'll be your chattel for the evening."
"At least you love your job," Ford said, taking a menu from him.
"Hey waitaminnit," Jake said, glancing at his menu. "This menu's been censored."
"Yes sir," Luke replied. "I'm afraid you're not cleared to view that information."
"So what, do we just order and hope you have what we want?" Lorna asked.
"I'm afraid I can't answer any direct questions except with," at this point he coughed lightly, "Fnord."
"Well then let me ask you an indirect question," Karen offered. "If, say, a restaurant such as this one were to have, say, a soup of the day, what would it be? Hypothetically, of course."
"Hypothetically," Luke replied, "I suppose such a place would serve a seafood bisque made with white wine and tomato, a French onion in a fresh baked bread bowl, and a potage de chien made with potatoes and a creamy mustard stock."
"That's not literally..."
"No," Ford said, cutting Lorna off in mid-sentence. "It's not."
"Well," Jake said, folding the useless menu. "I suppose I could, hypothetically, start with the bisque."
"I'll have the same," Karen said, and then added, "hypothetically."
"French onion," Lorna said.
"Gimme the dog," Ford said, handing his menu over.
"Very good," Luke said. "I'll return momentarily to slaver over you some more and take your dinner order."
"Nice fellow," Karen noted, after the waiter left.
"So Jake," Ford said. "Fish and I are inheriting you and your case tomorrow."
"That's right," Jake nodded. "LaTasha's going on sick leave."
"Really?" Lorna asked.
"Actually," Ford said, "maternity."
"The scary implication there," Lorna shuddered, "is that there will be another one of her running around."
"The scarier implication there," Ford added, "is that someone had sex with her. So is your case easy or are we going to have to do your work for you?"
"Nah, it's easy," Jake said, taking a sip of his complimentary water. "The case is all but closed. She confessed."
"Dang," Ford said. "I hate when they do that."
"Well, it was pretty blatant. Her neighbors were drug addicts. They robbed her house three times, so she got fed up with it and hooked the sewage line to their water line."
"Yuck," Karen said.
"Mmm," Ford said. "Poop."
"One of them died of shigellosis."
"Drinking feces will do that to you."
"Will you two quit it?" Lorna snapped.
"Yeesh," Ford said. "You'd think I was talking about the guy whose face got..."
"So Karen," Loran said, interrupting him. "Just yesterday I had a dead guy in a hotel. Couldn't get a TOD on him, so I had to use my seven-inch thermometer to get his core temperature rectally."
"Really," Karen replied, nonchalantly. "Just this morning I had to tie a client's JSP server to their Foxpro RADS system so they could implement their contractor database on their website."
"Ok! Ok!" Ford yelled.
"Jeez," Jake agreed. "One of you is going to put us to sleep and the other's going to give us nightmares."
"So no more talk about work?" Lorna asked.
"No more," Ford agreed.
"So Chris," Jake said. "You don't believe that little girl is you?"
"Not me," Ford said. "But I'm going to see her again on Saturday and see if I can get Morley to take her back again, but into my future."
"Now I'm confused," Karen said.
"S'ok," Ford nodded. "Me too."
"But you're like that all the time," Lorna added.
"Tell me again why I got back together with you?" Ford asked.
"Because you're a sad, lonely man."
"Right. Who else would put up with you?"
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