Somewhere outside of San Francisco 9pm
The moon sits low in the sky as a heavy rain falls down on a remote truck stop named the Roadrunner's Refuge. The sign above the door is heavily faded and the windows cracked and dusty. The entire place had the feeling of a fraternity. Various patrons sit inside the booths or at the counter, many sipping coffee and trading stories of exotic cargo they've hauled and crazy women encountered on the open road.
A lone man wearing a trucker hat and sunglasses sits in the corner sipping a glass of orange juice.
His stubble covered face breaks into a smile as the waitress brings his order to him. She is young, early twenties with dyed long blonde hair. Her hips have a certain sway to them when she walks and the patrons watch intently as she moves.
"Thank you very much." He says with a smile, never taking his eyes off her.
"Anything else I can get for you?"
He shakes his head. "No that should be it." He says still smiling.
"Ok well let me know if you need anything."
As he looks down at his plate his smile quickly fades.
"What the hell?"
The steak he ordered was burnt to a crisp. He takes his knife and fork and tries to cut a piece off, struggling. He turns his attention to his side, a baked potato. He jams his fork into it, getting a nice amount and scooping it in his mouth. He shakes his head in displeasure.
"Unbelievable." he mutters. "Excuse me sweetheart!"
The waitress comes from behind the counter and heads back over to where he is seated.
"Yes sir?"
"We have a serious issue here." He looks at her name tag. "Nicole. You see this steak is blacker than my first wife's heart and this baked potato is just as cold as she was. You think you can help me out?"
Nicole had to fight back a smile. "Absolutely, let me just take that for you and we'll get you a new steak and potato."
"Thank you so much. You're too kind Nicole."
Nicole nods politely and takes the plate back into the kitchen and returns to apologize for the mistake.
"We're sorry about that."
He nods and waits for his new order to come, pats his hands rhythmically on the table to pass the time. After about a half hour, the new food comes. This time the steak is cooked to perfection and the baked potato is hot and steamy. He hungrily hacks into the steak, taking little time to chew. The baked potato is scarfed down even quicker. He sits back with a look of satisfaction on his face.
"Now that is a good meal."
Sometime later he has paid for his food and is out the door. Thunder and lightning now accompany the rain as the weather worsens. The trucker climbs into his rig and departs.
"This is Jack Burton in the Porkchop Express and I'm talkin' to whoever is listening out there...If some ancient Chinese sorcerer comes out of thin air in the middle of a goddamn alley while his buddies are flying around on wires cutting everybody to shreds, and he just stands there waiting for you to drive your truck straight through him with light coming out of his mouth, you just remember what ol' Jack Burton says at a time like that: "Just turn the damn truck around and get the hell outta there A.S.A.P."
A black muscle car quickly approaches the truck from behind and zooms past, screeching to a halt not too far up the road.
"Oh come on, what the hell is this?!"
A tall, muscular black man emerges from the vehicle wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket carrying a sawed off shotgun. Jack gets his trusty knife ready for trouble and steps out of the truck.
"Look pal I don't know if you saw the Terminator too many times or what, but ol' Jack Burton always pays his taxes on time.....Usually"
The man gives him a disdainful look.
"Do I look like I work for the IRS?"
"As good a guess as any other. I hope you don't plan on taking my truck. I been through enough hassle with it already."
"I want what's in your truck." he says threateningly.
"Nothing in there but some cases of cheap perfume and some cotton t shirts." Jack remarks snidely.
"Well then you won't mind if I take a look."
"Go right ahead, hey take a couple shirts if they'll fit ya."
The man stalks over to the cab of the truck and opens fire.
"Jesus!" Jack yells.
Pete, Jack's pet demon monkey careens through the door and charges the man with arms flailing.
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