3 years have come and gone. Happy Birthday, NSFCD.

[Dog Food]

Happy birthday, NSFCD. Here's my contribution to the party:

[spoiler]"30 years... Wow... Really?"

"Yep, this placed survived for thirty long years."

"Three decades."

"10800 days."

"One third of a century."

"...Okay, I think I get it."

"In case you were wondering, yes we did have all those numbers planned out."

"Don't spoil our secrets!"

"Sh, sh! He's coming!"

"I don't hear any-"

"Shuddup!"

Darkness. Did I mention the blackness? Like emerged in a pool of murky, black paint. I couldn't tell who was talking. I wasn't even sure if my own words were escaping my lips or if they were stuck forever in limbo. Did these voices have faces, or were they bodiless words manifesting in my mind? No, I couldn't have made them up. I couldn't do math that fast.

Did that make this real? Could something nonexistent exist? In pure blackness, nothing has a place.

Blinding light. Cheers. Horns. Confetti.

Life.

"Happy anniversary, Silver!"

Noise all around. Smiles. A pat on the back to your neighbor. Shaking hands.

Silver dropped his bag and there was a crack. Broken plates, glass everywhere.

Roars of laughter. A sea of smiles.

A poster was displayed on the wall. Normally, the pancake shack's poster boy, Boar DeFanboye, was displayed as Silver's House of Pancakes' face for all the ads. But today someone photo shopped  a picture of Silver on a giant yellow piece of paper and plastered it to the wall like wallpaper. There was Silver in all his acne-filled glory, cross-eyed and smiling avidly.

"You guys... suck," Silver said, staring at the poster. Boar looked at the poster, with his abs in the shot, only with Silver's face covering his own.

"The likeness is uncanny," someone said with a grin.

Boar mixed a drink of whiskey and downed it. "No. But you do have a sexy body."

And the party began. People got into their groups, sat and talked, partied. Because the beach had been around 30 long years and Silver's House of Pancakes shared a day with NSFCD, on this day they were one and the same. It was a congratulations of sorts that they survived. They were still alive, even after all the hardships they had to face.

They were alive.

"How long you been around, package boy?" Boar asked, attempting to mingle with the "lesser men", the ones who weren't as well paid or as famous.

"Seeing as how I don't have anywhere else to go, I've been here since the beginning," Skye replied.

I walked past them with a secret smile. The loyal package boy talking with the star-status model. Who would have thought?

"You need a life."

"I guess so."

Boar walked away after refilling his whiskey, and I moved away before he noticed me and began spewing some of his great bad advice that he was so well-known for. Because if there was one thing people said about Boar, it was that he always gave bad advice and that he believed alcohol could fix any problem. I had never actually held a conversation with him, as he never visited the pancake shack except on special occasions when free whiskey was involved. Like today.

Anyway, I found myself camouflaged between two people playing a card game. It was a smart idea, because I knew Boar would never get within a few yards of anything that didn't involve alcohol, women, or tons of testosterone. And this definitely didn't involve any of those things. Magnum was playing a card game against the only person among our staff that worked the night shift. No one even knew his real name, they just called him 'Night'.

Seriously, I don't know anything about Night. In fact, this was the second time I had ever seen him before. The first... well, that's a story for another day. Anyway, his name is pretty accurate. He's about as shrouded in mystery as the very blackness that swallows the thick, night sky. A skinny, pale kid. One of those people who just looks smart, you don't even have to ask. And by his palate, I'd guess he's seen less of the sun than a vampire. Unless... No, not getting into that here. Not yet.

I stepped on one of the cards when backing up. Magnum jumped up and Night gave me a cold stare.

"Arr, matey. Avast!" Magnum shouted, pointing at me. "Yer bloody feet are the culprits in this crime!"

"Uh... What?" I asked.

Magnum grinned and pointed to the card sticking to the bottom of my shoe. "I think you stepped in gum, in plebian terms."

I tried to shake the card off, but it wouldn't budge. Finally, I lifted my shoe up and peeled the card off. Sure enough, some pink bubble gum came with it. "Ew... As sharp as always, Magnum." I handed him back the card, an embarrassed smile on my face. "Heh, heh... Here ya go. Uh, sorry."

"Eh, wasn't mine anyway," Magnum said with a shrug. He flicked the card at Night. With his piercing, unblinking eyes, he stared at me. Magnum leaned in close and whispered, "Now you've gone and done it. You'll have to face his wrath." Then he leaned back and shouted, "Witch! Witch! Burn her at the stake! She be a witch!" Night nodded solemnly, then turned back to his game.

I raised my eyes at Magnum. Then shook my head. "You guys are... weird."

"Thanks," Magnum said genuinely. "Wouldn't it be boring to be anything otherwise?" I smiled back, maybe sharing that sentiment... maybe slightly.

"Whatever floats your boat." And I left them to their game, afraid of Night's glowering eyes.

I noticed Silver, Mack the Manager, and the pancake shack's super, Celio (although people liked to call him Super affectionately, or Super Celio, and he endorsed it) talking together at one side of the room.

Super was another person that wasn't seen often. He had a lot of money (there were rumors that he made $1,122,329 a year - I know, pretty specific sum for a rumor...) and was said to have built the pancake shack with his own two hands. Although only rumors surround this character. I can't be sure of what he's actually done or when he's lying. In fact, the only thing I know for sure about Super is that he has an older brother that is a lot like him. Or, I should say, Super is a lot like his older brother. Following in the footsteps, as they say. But I know even less about Super's older brother, only that more wild rumors follow him. And that he's the most hated and most beloved and respected person that ever had anything to do with Silver's House of Pancakes.

Anyway, I decided to leave the staff to their own little conversation. They were probably reminiscing about the good old days, something I would know little about. As I turned to find a new conversation to join in on, I found Rob. He was running around the room, spreading something. And knowing Rob, that meant drama was afoot. I decided to head his way. It's shameful, but it seems humans are attracted to bad news like moths to the light.

"What's up, Rob?" I said, approaching him.

"Check this out," he said, glancing around to make sure we were alone before shoving his phone into my face.

"What?" I asked.

"Read it!" he urged me, shaking the phone in his hand. I grabbed his phone from him to stop him from shaking it and read the text that was on it. It read:

'Guess who? Happy birthday to your little breakfast club. We might... crash in, if we're that bored.'

I handed Rob back his phone and said, "Who's that from?"

"Guess."

"Scribble? Custom? Sync?"

"And Syd."

"All four of them?"

"Yep. They're coming here."

"What does this look like, The Wedding Crashers?"

"If they're coming, expect it to be a little less... harmless fun."

"Because pancakes are serious business?"

"Exactly."

"Oh boy..."[/spoiler]

[Silverhawk79]

"You guys... suck," Silver said, staring at the poster.

I'd say that.
...No, really.