Lacey had been expecting to walk into work this morning and see a diner, with booths and counter stools and tables and chairs. But then, she had also been expecting to walk into the diner in her normal clothes, and not something involving high boots, leather pants, a tricorner hat, and waaaaaaaaay too much cleavage. (Where did that come from? No
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"Hello!" Dale said cheerfully, "I have to say the specials look delicious today, but for some reason I keep expecting a leg of mutton and rum to be on the menu."
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