"Okay, now tell me honestly…Why can't we eat at Burger Palace?"

That was not the kind of question Matt was expecting next, but at least it wasn't a complicated one to answer.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. Pretty sure." Foggy looked worried now. "It's dog meat right? Because I ate there once or twice, even though you said not to."

"No it's not dog. But it's not much better."

Lie #2: Best Damn Burgers Ever

"Let us now forage for hamburgers!" Foggy yelled from the top of the atrium steps, almost toppling down them, but Matt grabbed his arm in time.

"You've got great reflexes for a blind guy!" Foggy shouted into Matt's face, his breath smelling strongly for the multiple jell-o shots he'd downed at the dorm party.

"And you smell like a brewery right now!" Matt yelled back and pulled himself and Foggy further away from the stair steps. His balance was not the best at this moment either, having partaken of a few shots himself.

"No, food first! I'm starving." He pulled Matt up the sidewalk towards the road leading away from their dorm. "Bill said there's this great new place just down the road. It's open all night, and they have the best damn burgers ever!"

"Isn't Bill that guy that hangs around campus and sells weed?"

"Yes! That Bill. I love him! He didn't even go to college, and he drives a freakin' awesome Trans-Am!" Foggy continued pulling Matt further from the much needed peace and quiet of his bed. Not that he got that much sleep in a room with Foggy, whose nickname came from his siblings who claimed he sounded like a foghorn when he slept. Matt could attest to this as being the most accurate nickname he had even known.

They ended up about a quarter mile down the road in front of a 50s style café with a neon pink and blue sign declaring "Burger Palace". The greasy smells from the outside were already enough to make Matt nauseous, but he didn't have the heart to turn away from Foggy's enthusiasm. And besides, all the burger talk had made him hungry, too.

They went inside and sat in one of the red pleather booths with the miniature jukeboxes at the end. It didn't actually work or anything but added to the nostalgia that it might bring to some. Matt doubted though that the original café served the over-processed meat and chemical laced vegetables he could smell.

A waitress (dressed in an old-fashion bubblegum pink uniform, of course) came over to take their order. She was in her mid-thirties, smelled like stale cigarettes and cheap perfume, and had dyed her hair platinum blond, recently, Matt could tell, from the smell of it. Foggy looked smittened, and Matt could hear his heart start to elevate.

"What'll you have sweethearts?"

Foggy flustered. "Oh, uh, two burgers, fries, sodas, and"—he turned to Matt—"want a milkshake?" Matt shook his head "no". "Okay, then, and just one chocolate milk shake for me."

"Have it right out boys." She did an extra shake as she walked away causing Foggy to drool.

Foggy wiped his mouth. "Man is she hot!" He said, very loudly, but the few patrons that were still hanging out after midnight didn't seem to notice.

"I guess I wouldn't know."

"Sure you do man! You always know! Think I could get her number?"

"Maybe," Matt replied. His senses were slightly dulled by the alcohol in his system, and he was very close to nodding off right there at the table. "Where is the restroom at in here, Foggy?"

"Oh, it's over there by the big, music box thing." He grabbed Matt's hand and pointed it in the right direction. "You need me to help you get there."

Matt laughed. "No, I'm a big boy. I think I can make it alone." He grabbed his cane and made his way to the men's room. He washed his hands and splashed some cold water on his face, feeling a little more alert.

Outside the restroom, Matt paused to take in his surroundings. It was a big mistake. He had a direct view to the open window of the kitchen from where he was standing. But it wasn't so much what he "saw" then as what he heard and smelled that made him hurry back to their table and grab Foggy by the arm.

"Hey. You okay? Did you get lost again?"

"No, Foggy. We've got to go. We've got to leave right now."

Foggy looked dumbfounded. But Matt managed to lead him out the door before he made a scene.

"What the hell man? We didn't get are food." Foggy looked and sounded like a little boy who had just missed the ice cream truck.

"Sorry. I'm just…sick. I need to go back to the room now." Before Foggy could protest, Matt quickly added, "I'll make you some of my famous bacon and mustard ramen noodles, okay?"

Foggy still looked sad, but he trudged along with Matt. "Okay. But I get extra bacon bits this time, right?"

"Yes, Foggy, for you, I will add extra bacon bits."

Hours later when Foggy was fast asleep and calling out to ships at sea, Matt still laid awake in his bed. He just couldn't get those images out his head of the scabby, runny nosed cook reaching for a bun to wipe his dripping snot. The same bun he then used to top off a burger that had flecks of red scab hidden within the lettuce.

Matt always found a reason not to go back to Burger Palace and mostly ordered take-out from then on.

Foggy was really quiet after Matt finished the story. He seemed more upset about this than Marci under the bed.

After a few minutes, Foggy asked, "Matt?"

"Yes, Foggy?"

"Please never tell me something like that again. I really just don't want to know."

"You got it."

A/N: Gross I know! I just keep thinking how I could probably never eat out anywhere with Matt's senses. More to come!