"Uncle Jake?" Sabrina said.
"We used to come here when I was a kid. Hank and I would collect old soda bottles and take them to Tweedledee and Tweedledum's convenience store for the deposits. Then we'd head over here and drink chocolate malteds all day. This was our booth. That waitress at the door--she owns this place. We used to drive her nuts, but she doesn't even recognize me. That man at the counter--he's the Scarecrow. He runs the town library. I owe him probably forty dollars in late fees. Over in that booth at the end of the table is the Cheshire Cat--we once watched a pit bull chase him up a tree. The fire department had to come and get him down. He called us a couple of 'no-good hooligans' for laughing at him."
Sabrina turned around. The man Uncle Jake was referring to was studying his menu. He had the biggest eyes and grin Sabrina had ever seen outside of a cartoon.
"But I've been erased." Uncle Jake sighed.
"What did you do?" Sabrina said.
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Something very, very stupid."
"How y'all doin'?" a waitress said as she bopped over to the table with a note pad and pencil in hand. She had a big out-of-date hairdo, bright-pink lipstick, and a name tag that read FARRAH. "What can I getcha?" she said, between chomps on her bubble gum.
"I'll have a grilled cheese with bacon and tomato," Uncle Jake said. "You still make those fantastic chocolate malteds?"
"You bet we do," Farrah said. "Sounds like you've been here before."
"A couple times." Uncle Jake sighed again.
"And what about you, honey?" Farrah said, turning to Sabrina. Waitresses in Manhattan were always calling her "honey." It made her a little homesick.
Sabrina read her order straight from the menu. "Cheeseburger, medium, cheese fries with a side of brown gravy, an egg cream, and…"
"What'cha lookin for, darlin'?" Farrah asked.
"Oh, I wish you had blueberry cobbler. There was a diner near our apartment that specialized in it. Most restaurants don't make it."
"Well, we do." Farrah pointed to the bottom of the menu. Sabrina could have sworn it hadn't been there before but at the end of the dessert list was BLUEBERRY COBBLER in black and white.
"Looks like you've got the four major food groups covered," the waitress said with a playful wink. "How about you, short stuff?"
"I want chicken wings, some macaroni and cheese, and jalapeno poppers," Daphne said.
Farrah jotted it down.
"Then, for my main course, I would like one of these overstuffed Reuben sandwiches with extra Thousand Island dressing, a side of tater tots, a black-and-white milkshake, and a cherry vanilla Dr Pepper."
"Sweetie, there's no way you'll be able to eat all that." Farrah laughed.
"Oh, she'll eat it," Sabrina said. "Back home they call her 'The Stomach.'"
"Save me a slice of cheesecake, too," Daphne added after she'd stuck out her tongue at her sister.
Farrah laughed, shoved her pencil behind her ear, and dashed to the back with the order.
Suddenly, the door jingled and a crowd of people entered the diner. Leading them was the Queen of Hearts and Sheriff Nottingham. The queen called out a hello to everyone, while members of her entourage handed out "VOTE FOR HEART" buttons. The queen and the sheriff went from table to table, shaking hands with people and asking for votes. Sabrina frowned, knowing it was just a matter of time before they got to their table.
"Maybe we should leave," she said.
"Leave?" Daphne gasped. "Do you know how long it has been since I had chicken wings?"
"No, this will be fun," Uncle Jake said, just as Mrs. Heart and Nottingham reached their table. Without even looking, the queen took Uncle Jake's hand and shook it vigorously while her handlers pinned campaign buttons on the girls without bothering to ask if it was OK.
"Hello everyone, my name is Heart and I'm running for mayor of Ferryport Landing," the woman said.
"Hello, your majesty," Uncle Jake said with a mischievous grin.
The queen's eyes quickly darted to their uncle's face and immediately flared with rage.
"You!" she cried, yanking her hand away as if she had just put it inside a hornet's nest.
"Us," Daphne said.
"How is the campaign going?" Uncle Jake asked.
"It's going just fine, thank you." Mrs. Heart seethed. "Your assault on the community yesterday only helped get my point across. There's not enough room in this town for Everafters and Grimms."
"What an inspiring message of hope," Uncle Jake replied.
Sheriff Nottingham limped over and grabbed Jake by the collar. He pulled him close to his angry face and barked, "Laugh now, boy, but when we're running this town, I promise you I will personally squash your filthy vermin family under my boot heels."
"Take your hands off my uncle," Sabrina said. Nottingham snarled. "Shut your gob, child, or I'll smack it off your face."
"What does gob mean?" Daphne asked.
Sabrina shrugged, reached into her pocket, took out the wand, and aimed it at the sheriff.