The Colour Purple Chapter 2: Joe's Diner, a king of fighters fanfic

The Colour Purple... The King of Fighters '95

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This (chapter) fanfiction was originally written circa: [XX.96] (Thank you)

"Which Character are you?"

Chapter 2: Joe's Diner

The streets were deceivingly peaceful at night, but during the day, it would bustle with activity... The morning sun prevented anything from being tucked away.

All around you'd see individuals that lead different walks of life... There would be lovers quarreling, children playing, girls laughing, businessmen rushing about their way, and even the occasional diner crowded with a ruckus of free, unadulterated peoples.

This peninsula is called New Hong Kong, an artificial island, which started when the treaties between Nations became so complex, that countries couldn't even decide where to trade goods anymore... so they decided to make their own island...

…and in this place, races from all over would converge to lead a new life, free from the politics that bound them back home... Little Italy, Neo Tokyo, North Mexico, and many other little towns held their own culture and legacy...

The cherry blossoms were in bloom and scattered the pretty pastel leaves all over the town. So this town is called little Italy, and a well-kept secret is a nice joint called 'Joe's Diner'.

It seemed like any ordinary truck driver's haven, but the simple food had it's own unique style... Sometimes when you've tasted great food, you find something new, and you realize that you haven't experienced simple food... Well, that's what Joe's diner was there for. It's not a fancy French restaurant, nor was it a posh bistro... It's a place where good home-style meals are slaved on by an individual who loves to cook... It comes from the heart, the art of cooking, and not done for show.

It's a legacy built upon its own romance.

Iori, with his leather duffel bag slung behind him, walked into the diner. It had an old American feel. There were James Dean posters on the walls and those nostalgic looking coke vending machines, and classic jukeboxes.

Iori sat down on one of those stools on the bar, and looked over the menu. His posture was shot as usual and he wore the grim look on his face.

He started to get impatient, having been waited on his whole life by a harem of servants; he never experienced an atmosphere where HE had to wait. In fact, he didn't know how to act in a restaurant… It was kind of amusing to the other customers seeing this man sit on the bar, and looking around, seemingly not knowing what to do next. Iori looked around him and followed a man at the other side of the room raise his hand to get the waitress' attention, but he stopped, unsure of the gesture. He hunched again and unknowingly hid behind his Menu.

Iori got frustrated and hit the bar with his fist.

"What the HELL are you staring at!" Iori growled at the snickering customers jeering behind him. Then as he was about to get up, and reach for a random victim to release his frustrations onto, a fan tapped his shoulders and Iori swung aside, and began a motion for a backhand.

Iori's backhand flew straight aiming for whoever's unfortunate face was behind him. He hit, but didn't feel flesh or bone... It was wood...

"Hey, Okyaku-sama (customer), you shouldn't act like that, we may be slow, but we're not THAT slow... Just don't leave so much of a tip okay, but don't harass the other customers." the young lady in a skimpy, low-cut looking waitress outfit cooed.

Iori looked at his hand in surprise and saw a wooden fan clipped onto his wrist, and in a blinding twist the fan slithered around his arm and forced his palm back on the bar.

The cheerful waitress only smiled. She was wearing one of those stereotype "waitress on roller skates" outfits that were so popular back then. She had a pink top and a short ruffled skirt. Iori glanced at her chest and saw a pin... Mai, it read.

"Now," Mai asked, "what do you want for lunch?"

Iori looked puzzled, so Mai pointed to the menu. Iori looked over and slid his finger over the numbers and reached 'Philly cheese steak'. Iori grunted without taking his taught, slit tense eyes off the naive looking waitress.

"Haaaaiii! (Yup)," Mai cheered and went off behind the bar and called out the order number into the window that lead into the kitchen.

Iori sat on the barstool once again to regain his composure and wondered what the napkins and those tubes with pepper and salt were doing on the countertop.

Iori felt through his jacket, it was cut off just below his chest, and he slid his hand under the flaps to get his pack of Lucky Strikes. Iori tapped it and slid a stick into his mouth, and waited, then he realized that he didn't have a lighter in hand and he also didn't have any servants at his beck and call. So he picked up a napkin and lit it. The tissue exploded into purple flames and he used that to light his cigarette. Just after he took his first puff, he heard a call come from the kitchen.

"Oi! Okyaksama (customer), Be careful when you do that okay... I love this diner more than my own mother loves me. Understand!?", came the voice of the chef.

That sounded rather long and corny.

Iori peeped through the window and saw someone from the neck down... the front was covered by a white apron that had 'Joe can cook' embossed on it. He examined some more and noticed bandaged hands grip the edges of the window, and slowly he could see an Asian chef lean over and peep through the window. The chef had a tall white hat on which abruptly fell as it hit the end of the edge. And beneath the had exposed hair in tall spikes as if the chefs hat's sole purpose was to mold this guy's hair. The chef introduced himself as Joe as he went around the side and to the kitchen door. Joe hung his apron up and all he was wearing underneath was a white T-shirt, a pair of orange Bermuda shorts and Nike sneakers.

"Hey, I haven't seen you around town," Joe smiled to Iori... Joe looked over to Mai and asked her to take orders while he kept the customer occupied. "I know pretty much everybody in this town, cause one reason or another the guys go to Joe's Diner..."

Joe's million dollar smile roared as he proclaimed "JOE'S DINER!"

Sometimes they go here on dates, on business, even illegal sometimes, but I keep my mouth shut because it IS an honour thing... Hey, one time a couple had their wedding, or was it first date anniversary here... Yeah it's a great place." Joe went on and looked to the side at his James Dean Memorabilia..

"Hey, I guess you ARE new in town, tell me where're from? I'm building up on my 60's rebel stuff, and I haven't seen many diners like mine... (Joe liked to talk to himself as you can see) so tell me..." Joe continued as he turned around to face Iori, but to his surprise he saw no one there...

"A-re? (uh?)" Joe stammered, as a sweat drop trickled down his temple. Without warning, a tray hit his head from behind, making his eyes pop from his head...

Joe turned around to see an agitated Mai towering over him.

"BAKA! (idiot)" Mai scolded, "Look, you scared him off! He probably got sick and tired of your talking.. that's why I do the talking and YOU do the cooking remember?"

Mai pouted and walked away... "And he looked kind'a cute too."

Joe rubbed the back of his head and his eyes slit. {That's not an ordinary man...} Joe thought to himself (He continued to philosophize to himself, sagely resting his chin in his fingers, contemplating. {I felt some power radiating from him, and it was a good thing Mai stopped him before he could wreck MY RESTAURANT…

{He IS new in this town, and doesn't look too friendly... I may have to keep an eye out for him..}

"JOE!" Mai screamed once more.

"Hai HAI HAI! (ok ok ok)," Joe stammered as he threw both arms to the side like a mime... "I'll get back to the kitchen okay!"

Joe leaped over the bar and reached for the kitchen door, he felt something strange and looked behind him. Joe was in awe as he saw the napkin still burning, and had melted through the countertop and onto the concrete floor, the napkin, not even showing any signs of ash or burn...

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