The Denny's Debacle

It was a wonderful day in Los Angeles. The sky was singing and the birdies were blue this fine day in the city of angels. California wasn't experiencing a 110-degree heatwave that would last for weeks and only a third of it was on fire. Yes, truly a fine day. This is what made it all a shame that such a fine day would be ruined by the villainous plots of vile villains.

Fortunately, when evil rises, good rises to oppose them. Unfortunately, all the local heroes have all gone to Canada to see a Katy Perry concert. With the sudden lack of these valiant defenders, who could possibly save the unaware townsfolk from certain and utter doom at the hands of a new and DANGEROUS! (Wrong character) evil threat? All hope rests on one angel turned man (or was it Man made angel? Do we even really know if he is actually an angel? I mean, he has wings, yeah, but inbred people can have webbed toes and we don't call them mermen. My point is, is that I'm under the belief that Solomon isn't actually an angel regardless of his delusions.)

Solomon, unknowing of his sudden status as the city's sole protector finds himself hungry after a morning of demon-slaying and screaming at hookers, and finds himself dropping into the parking lot of a local Denny's. If there was one place that was consistently average, it was Denny's, and Solomon needed the mundane respite after the past few days of smiting evil.

As Solomon entered the establishment, he knew he picked the right location for this after slaying snack. The strong smell of the whitest food in existence and pancakes was floating in the air, the burnt sausage and eggs smell were weak today which saddened our angry neighborhood angel. as the waitress arrived to escort Solomon to his seat, he was too entranced by the decor to notice her aura was off. By the time he looked away from the wall, he was already sitting and the waitress was long gone.

Solomon looked around at his fellow customers and smiled as he noticed not a single person was on their phones, it always made him feel better to see people just living in the moment. Just as he was about to put his head back down and look through the menu he noticed one other patron was staring right at him, Solomon just gave the kind fellow a smile and a wave before finally looked down at his menu.

about twenty minutes after he was seated another waitress seemed to appear before him with a pen and paper in her hands. As Solomon looked up he couldn't help but be drawn to her Heathen shirt, an establishment like this allowing their staff to wear a shirt that shows their bellybutton was something Solomon will have to bring up at the next board meeting of "Catholics for Undermining National Traitors and Savors." Looking past her Heatheness was difficult for Solomon but beat it and order one Grand Slam for his mighty big appetite, it wasn't long after that his meal arrived and he was ready to dig it.

Dr. Wallen, or better known in his alias, The Wanting, sat and stared. He had been sitting in Denny's for the past 7 hours, staring aimlessly at the wall and it's nonoffensive "art". To say the "art" was mundane would be an understatement, but he wasn't surprised given how Denny's was the most average and boring restaurant to ever exist. At least other restaurants would sometimes serve horrible food that you could complain about. There was absolutely nothing exciting or special about the painfully average food or decor, and if Hell did exist, it would most likely just be another Denny's.

There was a purpose besides eating the bland food and getting the occasional stare from the underpaid staff, however. There was a supposed angel lurking around Los Angeles, conducting "God's Wrath" and that just couldn't stand. If there was such a god, then they obviously don't care about us and should be ignored. If this "angel" thinks he is a servant of some holy figure, then beating some sense into him is the least Wanting could do for him. Besides, if by some chance he does actually serve a higher power, then there is a chance Dr. Wallen could feel something again.

And so he sat there, staring at the wall, waiting for the delusional chicken-man to dine at his favorite restaurant. While Denny's may have been Solomon's favorite, The Wanting needed to pull the strings and orchestrate their meeting. In between bouts of staring at the wall and ordering coffee, he was busy jumping around the many bodies of his Crowd. He had spent the entire morning making Solomon's life as stressful as possible. Kids vandalizing his mailbox, thugs attempting to rob him, even the occasional hooker trying to solicit sex from him. The Wanting was all of these people and the many more that sat around the dining hall of Denny's.

Just as planned the nutcase arrived, no doubt starving after the fast-food cook ruined his morning breakfast. He was blissfully unaware that he was surrounded by The Wanting's Crowd. Wanting didn't even bother trying to be secretive with his staring as the idiot just dumbly smiled and waved at him. Chicken-Man was left undisturbed until his food arrived and that was when things sprang into action.

The entire room went silent as all the patrons suddenly froze. Some holding utensils in the air, others with their mouth ajar in mid-conversation. Every patron besides Solomon froze as if stuck in time. Slowly in unison, all of them turned in the direction of Solomon and stared vacantly. One of the closer patrons, an aging Japanese woman, gave a forced smile at the winged man.

"We finally meet."

Solomon looked up at his fellow eaters as he heard someone talk to him, seeing everyone just staring at him was certainly a sight he didn't expect to see today. knowing this might be trouble Solomon quickly inhaled his pancakes, no reason to make the delicious pancakes go to waste. Just as he finished swallowing he quickly jumped out of his chair with his glass in his hand, as he made it to his feet he chugged the whole glass before whipping the liquid from his mouth and smiling.

As he looked around he realized the voice he heard came from some old Asian lady who was sitting in from of him, without thinking he looked at her and yelled: "For the last time you freaking freak of nature if you want your money you got to talk to me in that monkey form or yours." he stood in place for a moment and waited for a response, when he got none he's anger went up a notch.

"Now listen here," he said walking over to the old lady "An old lady disguise won't help you." he slams his fist on her table. he looks her in the eyes and notices something is off, he quickly shook it off as just a normal thing with shift shapes. "and one more thing" he says about ready to force him back to his normal form "tell that pig friend of yours that I don't like him showing up to my place without you, I know he's our friend but He's still a demon satan damn it."

Wanting raised his eyebrows in surprise as Solomon yelled at him. He was aware that the chicken-man was delusional and prone to outbursts of violence, but was he also racist? He had so readily jumped into a combative stance, nearly breaking a table as he smashed into it as he screamed utter nonsense about monkeys and pig people. Yes, the only conclusion was that Solomon was blatantly racist towards Asians and probably Africans with that monkey comment. It just doesn't make sense how quickly he flew off the handle over a simple hello.

The Wanting, undeterred over the increasing likelihood that the loon went berserk and snapped his neck simply nodded and smiled as he casually raised his mug and drank his lukewarm coffee. It's hard to be intimidated when you can't be scared. Besides, it's not as if death was a big issue anymore. There are always more bodies...

"Well then, if this is how you react to a casual hello, I'd love to see how you handle a date." There was forced mirth in his tone as he crinkled his eyes and curled his lips into a smile that seemed just off.

"As much as I would love to hear all about pig people and monkeys, I'm afraid you misunderstand." He slowly shook his head in feigned disappointment.

"I've been watching you for quite a while now and I thought it'd be nice to have a...chat. So why don't you sit back down and we can talk like adults, or do "angels" not do that sort of thing?"

Solomon stared at whoever or whatever was before him with a stern look on his face, he was partly convinced he wasn't dealing with his monkey king booker since he never uses words like "misunderstand" or "talk like adults." as he stared down this thing he could tell something was off, like the thing inside wasn't what was on the outside. It didn't take long before even he was getting creeped out so he decided to look around instead.

for the first time since he entered this Dennys Solomon noticed everyone around him had these sunken looks in their eyes, almost like they didn't exist at all. the only other person not staring at him was this cute baby in a stroller, just sitting there shaking his rattle very carefully. feeling he was safe for the time being he looked back at his new lunchmate, something about her wrinkles felt unnatural.

"Okay," Solomon said he walked a couple of tables over and grabbed a chair "let's talk I guess," he said as he set the chair down next to the creature's table with his body sitting down shortly after. he sat there for a moment before he finally spoke: "what are you and what do you want with me in this place of mundane and great pancakes?" as he asks the question he has a moment ponder what has led him to this moment, maybe he needs to read the scripture more often.

A crooked smile flashed over the old lady's face as she lightly clapped her hands.

"Good, I'm H̸̛̟̬̣̺̿̋a̴͈̍p̶̦͗̽́̉p̶͚̱̭̿̍̀͝ÿ̸̧̤̤́͂́͑ we could have a chance to talk before we really got into it."

Up until this point, Wanting had been speaking in a casual, relaxed tone, but when he uttered the word happy, it was as if there was a glitch in the matrix. The word came out very stilted with every consonant mangled almost to the point of making the word unrecognizable. For just a moment there a look of complete longing crossed across the lady's face before fading just as quickly as it appeared. He sipped his coffee before continuing on.

"You'll have to forgive me for seeming rude, it's been such a long time with no one to talk to besides myselves. Anyways, let's not dwell on what I am, since that hardly matters in the end. Instead, let us talk about what's important. Which, of course, what I want. Fitting given how Wanting is my name."

He paused and took a sip from his cup only to frown. Without a word, one of the people nearby gave their cup to him. Smiling all too widely he stirred the cup before continuing.

"I'm here for one simple thing, and I do hope you can help me with it." He sighed dramatically as if the very act of asking for help went against him. "You see, I've done some very bad things and you punish people who do bad things. I've tried just about everything to f̵̡͍̗̎̅̂̌e̴̺͚͊͑͑e̵̞̹͕̘̿͌͒̔l̷̪͖̦̃̌́ the guilt of my sins and I just can't seem to care. Surely, if you are an actual angel of God himself, surely you must be able to make me atone."

Wanting listlessly glanced around the room to all the people still stock still, eyes blank with lifelessness.

"And do believe me. I've done some very bad things indeed and am hardly innocent. If your God is actually real then surely I should be punished."

"I really do hope you can help me. I would be all so ṷ̶̈́p̴̨̪̱͚̓s̶̮̃̃ë̷̞́͑͗̕͜ṫ̵̬̞̖̂̌̀ if you couldn't. Tell you what, I'm going to finish my coffee for the next few minutes, but in the meantime, feel free to ask me whatever you like. Think of it as your payment for the help. After that, I'm going to attack you. I'm going to attack you and hurt you. I am going to attack you and you will have to smite me until I stop. Otherwise, I might just kill you for wasting my time."

Wallen reclined further back into his chair and swished his coffee for a good moment.

"That seems fair, doesn't it? Yes, as fair as any deal I could give anyways. You can start asking your questions if you'd like."

Solomon stared at the thing he was now sitting across from, staring more out of confusion than out of any other emotion. he looked down at the table as the creature took a sip from its glass, Solomon was seriously regretting downing his drink a moment ago. "what are you?" Solomon asked as he looked back up "you're certainly not human and you're definitely not created by the big guy." As Solomon said that statement ideas start floating around his head, all of them falling back on a demon has come to earth.

Glancing around Solomon saw that the entire restaurant was still staring at him, the amount of heathens seems to get more and more the longer he looks. it wasn't long before he found himself looking at the artwork in the wall again, by god it was the most heathen of all the heathens in the room. Sometimes he wonders why he comes to dennys, the artwork alone makes the mundane too mundane for him. As he looked away he saw the creature was still giving him the wide smile from before, like it was waiting for something.

"Okay fine," Solomon said to it "if you're not going to answer my first question, then answer my second and third then." Solomon Pondered for a moment before he spoke up again, "How are you doing this?" he said gesturing around the room. After a moment he quickly threw out "and on that note, how many of it is in this room right now?" After he asked he closed his eyes for a moment like he was looking for something, wasn't long before he smiled and opened them up. 'that might come in useful later' he thought to himself as he looked back at the creature, sensing the action he was expecting a fight any moment now.

Though seemingly impossible the old lady's smile grew wider as Solomon finally asked some good questions. As much as Wallen could go on about what exactly he was and go into gross details on the matter, there simply wasn't enough time to explain the basics of soul transference or the nuances programming biology to this extent. A shame really. Sipping from his coffee he looked off at the various art pieces decorating the wall slowly tapping a finger to his lips. It wasn't that he was unsure of how to begin answering the angel's questions but rather he needed to show that he was being genuine in his answers.

"Not sure what you were expecting from the first question. After all, I did say what I am hardly matters, but if you so insist on knowing then I shall indulge you. I...am a good person. It's the main reason why I am here, hoping you will punish a good person who has done some very bad things. Whether you can, remains to be seen."

Wanting took another sip from his draining mug.

"As to how I am doing all this, well, that's a very complicated and long process, but I did say I would answer your questions so I'll simplify it."

The old woman slowly pointed across the entire room at the vacant and hollow faces of the crowd of everyday people surrounded them.

"All of them, every man, woman, and child, all of them are me and I am them. Much like your "God" made man in his image, I made this crowd in my image. I'll admit that they aren't quite the same as people, given how they have no souls of their own, but they are indistinguishable from the real thing."

He traced a finger on the rim of his mug thinking over his next works.

"The easiest way to think of them is like a pair of shoes. You can have several pairs of shoes but you can only wear one pair at a time. When needed, I can change from this pair of shoes--" The old lady points to herself. "To these shoes instead" A punkish looking teenager said from the front of the crowd.

The old lady drained continued draining her drink until there were only a few sips left.

"There isn't much of a range limit either by the way. I can just as easily switch from this body to another one 3 towns over. I'd L̶̮̉̎͛͆̿o̸͍͍̎̏͒͝v̵̻̭͎͆̓͛͝͝e̶͕͉̎̃͜ to continue on the process but we have far to little time. There are also 63 bodies in this crowd you are surrounded by."

The lady peered down into her mug and frowned as there wasn't much left.

"Im Ả̵̢̛̩̫͔̘͔̣̯̰͓͖̮̣̲͒͂̀͊̅̍̈́͜f̶͓̰̺̺̯̦̥̯͆̀̋̈́͛r̴̨͉̩̤̳̩̫̩͙̰̪̳̙̘̤̐͐̈̈́͒̈́͋͆ͅi̸̛͖̲̫̯̤̪͌͊̔̐͛̀̇͂͗͘ą̵̡̖͎̻͈̘̹̩̣̤͔̯̮̤̓͊͌̓ḋ̸̥̬͕̠͍͓͔̭͔̜̔ there isn't much left to drink and I doubt I can answer any more of your questions in time. If you must ask one more question, then it will need to be a quick one. Otherwise, prepare yourself."

As Solomon listened to the thing in front of him babble on about something or another he just stood there with a blank stare on his face, it's not like he asked this guy a question or some.....oh shit he did. that didn't matter now because as he looked back at the thing he saw it was almost finished with its coffee. Solomon quickly glanced around the room as if he was trying to form a plan, this of course was not the case because angels never need plans. before he knew it he was on his feet and ready for an attack from any angle.

taking a step back he quickly put one hand on the hilt of his sword, he knew something was coming and he didn't want to be caught off guard. before he knew it he had his back on the front counter with the register, looking around again he noticed he was right by the door to the outside. "I could run," he thought to himself in a moment of wonder, "no no no" he quickly shot down mentally "I can't run when there are demons afoot." with that Solomon quickly ran to the bathroom, no need to fight without draining the drink he had chugged what felt like a month ago.

After washing his hands and storming out of the bathroom, he quickly ran back up to the old lady and pulled out his sword. as he made it he just about slammed the blade up against the old lady's throat as he yelled: "If we're going to do this let us go, no more games heathen." for a moment he wondered if he could really kill this lady, that was quickly washed away as he saw her creepy smile. as he held the blade to her throat, his eyes started to glow gold has shit was about to start.

"If you have any questi--" His words hung as he watched the racist angel book it for the bathroom. How one cup of OJ was enough to warrant such urgency was beyond him. for several moments Wanting sat there amongst his crowd just staring at the bathroom door. Was the angel hoping to escape? Wouldnt do much since there were several of the crowd perched outside with heavy caliber rifles in case he did. Would be a real shame for the Angel to get gunned down after all they just been through together.

A few long moments of awkward silence passed as the angel did his business and all Wanting could wonder is if angel urine works the same was as holy water. The dozens that made up the crowd all watched the bathroom door listening to the sounds of a flushing toilet and the washing of hands. It wasn't long after that this silence was broken as the winged racist kicked open the door and charged straight at Wanting's current mouthpiece.

As Solomon pressed a sword against his current body's throat Wanting wasn't concerned in the slightest. Instead, he just gave a little smile and calmly said.

"Very well, seeing how ready you are. You'll have to forgive me though, I don't have my game face on yet so to speak."

The lady reached into her purse and pulled out a simple white mask that showed the expression of intense joy. While she was doing this the rest of the crowd began dawning their own white masks with various different expressions.

"You see, I've always found it hard to properly show my ḟ̷͇̈́ḛ̶̛̫é̴̫̼̕l̵̖̃͐į̷͓̌n̵̫͖͑g̸̢͉͑s̸̩̥͊ to others, it's rather hard when you can't ḟ̷̳͍ẻ̵̤͊e̸̦̒l̴̠͂̾ͅ a thing anymore after all. This way, people can't help but see the various smiles and frowns. Now that that's over with let's get started."

With that, she gave a big smile, looked Solomon straight in the eye, and slit her own throat on the blade pressed against her. As the blood spilled across her clothes and pooled on the floor she continued to stare and smile as her life passed. The crowd didn't bother waiting for the body to cool as the masked horde descended upon Solomon, swarming him on all sides. There was only a precious few seconds before the swarm engulfed the angel.

Solomon looked down at the old lady just in time to see her slit her own throat on the blade of his sword, as she makes it to the other end he pulled the sword back in disgust. "My lord you heathen beast" Solomon quickly screamed at the old lady as he tried to wipe the blood off the blade, "if you're going to dirty my blade with your blood I wish to do it myself." He finished wiping the last drop of blood off the blade just in time to see everyone around him put their masks on, a sight Solomon knew deep down was certainly a sign of nothing good. Before he could react he was being swarmed by every last one of them.

It wasn't long before Solomon found himself near the bottom of a giant pile of husks, every hand in sight clawing at him like Preditors tearing into their prey. Solomon jerked his sword towards what he thinks is the roof, he knew he was right when he was blinded by a small beam light for a couple of seconds. As he focused his power into his blade he could feel nails claw at him slightly as he tried his best to keep out of reach. As Solomon could feel the power built up within his sword was ready for the show he felt a sudden pain as one of the husks got husks directly in the right shoulder blade, within seconds Solomon was able to see a flash of blinding light before everything around him suddenly went flying.

Sitting up Solomon could see the Husks had all been sent flying across the Dennys buying him time, as he stood up he lifted his sword only to realized it had been partly damaged in the explosion leaving it weakened. Trying to move his right arm only leads to shooting pain, he quickly slammed his other hand into his right shoulder and spoke in a divine tongue until he could move his shoulder again. As he finishes up his repairs he turns around just in time to see the husks getting back up from their flight, one, in particular, was already on its feet and charging for Solomon. seeing him coming his way Solomon quickly lifted his now semi-healed arm, as he pulled back he had just enough time to speak something in Latin before he drove his now flame-infused fist into the creature's chest.

The crowd quickly overwhelmed and piled on the racist while Wanting took over the body of a Hispanic looking trucker and watched from the distance. He'd start things off slow, not having any of the bodies fight with actual weapons. After all, the whole point was to get Solomon to fight with all he can so killing him with a sudden well-placed round would ruin things.

Still, the bodies are more than capable of violence even disarmed thanks to their aggressive motivator combat chips. In many regards, they could be considered the ultimate soldiers. They showed no fear or hesitation, did everything in their power to complete a task even if it kills them, and were utterly obedient. Unfortunately, the only big issue was the lack of imagination. While they were certainly capable of figuring out the best paths to take, and which threats are more dangerous, they have no ambition or drive pushing them past doing any tasks outside of their commands. Without proper guidance, they were truly incapable of long term planning of any kind. A shame really.

In any case, they made the most of their pile-on as he heard grunts and shouts of pain from the racist as the many hands and feet clawed and kicked. All of that was suddenly over as an impressive explosion sent the horde flying across the now ransacked dining hall. It didn't do much other than buying Solomon time as the bodies slowly rose in silence, ready to continue their onslaught.

The winged racist chanted in some language Wanting didn't recognize and ignited his arm as he took a swing at an approaching body. The fist landed solidly but the fire didn't seem to catch giving Wanting the assumption that the fire was probably just a visual effect more than anything. The body wheeze as the air was knocked out of it and collapsed to the ground. It would most certainly take more than a well-placed punch to keep one of Wanting's creations down but for now, the body laid motionless on the ground as it tried to regain its senses.

As Solomon was fighting that body the rest of them were moving in to surround him once again. Not wanting to keep repeating things Wanting had 3 of his crowd grab abandoned steak knives. Those 3 would charge Solomon while the rest formed a ring and threw various cups, plates, and silverware at him.

Solomon watched as the creature before him just collapse to the floor below him, as it just laid there and tried to catch its breath he just stared. He could not believe a creature with such a monstrous appearance could take a hit like that, that kind of hit at least makes their skin burn even a little. Out of curiosity, Solomon picked up a chair and threw it at one of the husks. To his surprise, it just slammed into it and throw it to the ground, Solomon wasn't watching the shell struggle for long before he felt something shatter on the back of his skull.

Feeling the back of his head only confirmed Solomon's suspicions as his hand came back crimson red, sherds of what looked like a cheesy mug was mixed among his life liquid. As he heard another mug get thrown at him, he was able to quickly duck before it made contact, causing the mug to fly over his head and smash onto a nearby wall. Spinning around gave him the opening he needed as his wings popped the hatches on his jacket, coming out with such force that not only did it send all objects around him flying in multiple directions but it caused his jacket to rip down the sleeves. As he looked back at the damages he twitched with anger as he realized he just ruined his custom-made jacket, “I swear to my god heathen!” he screamed as he gripped his sword “I will make you pay for this.” he charged for the nearest group of shells and swung deep as he decapitated three of the creatures' before turning four more into a flesh kebab, taking the opportunity of having four of them weakened he quickly charged a nearby wall before slamming them with enough force to split the in two.  

Solomon yanked back his sword as he tried to get the last of the shell’s off it and while looking around, he saw that he had gone through a good portion of the husks in the room. To be on the safe side Solomon quickly floated up to get a better look at the whole restaurant, a view he hated as he hit the point where they never dusted too fast for his comfort. Holding back a sneeze, Solomon is able to see a small handful of shells hanging around the restaurant. “I have an idea,” Solomon thought aloud as he dove to the ground and snatched one of the shells before letting it go from the highest part of the ceiling. As the creature left his fingers Solomon could do nothing else but watch as the thing plummeted to the ground below, slowly wondering if this feeling building up was excitement for the smash or the joy of killing a heathen.

"I have an idea" the "hero" thought, or rather, he shouted loudly for everyone to hear, mainly Wanting because there was hardly anyone else around. Why the angel decided to speak aloud was a mystery to Wanting but he decided to chalk it up to some old racist thing. He was further baffled over what the idea actually was. The grand idea was to swoop down and grab one of the still dozens of bodies and fly up all of 10ft to the ceiling of the building and drop the body. Again, Wanting wasn't sure what he really expected to achieve from this other than maybe spraining that body's ankle, oh well.

Regardless of Solomon's antics, Wanting was growing profoundly disinterested in this "fight". All the angel did was fly around, swing a sword, and occasionally throw something. Solomon certainly wasn't giving this his all and it was rather rude considering how considerate and fair Wanting was being towards him. If he didn't expect anything but the best attempt, how could he possibly cross off this opportunity to feel something again?

The only problem wasn't whether or not he could kill the angel, he absolutely could with the various sniper nests he had surrounding the area. Solomon may be strong and can fly, but could he handle several 12.7-mm rounds? No, the issue was balance. Solomon needed to believe he was about to die and only then would Wanting be there, ready and waiting for the most powerful smite Solomon could muster. Sighing, mainly for show, he reached into a purse and handed out several pistols of various calibers. Maybe some live-fire will help motive the racist.