Their car roared through the winding track, engines screaming, tires screaming louder. In the distance, a massive platform came into view, suspended above the road by massive steel arms. The wealthy spectators leaned over railings, cheering, laughing, throwing champagne off the sides like it was water.
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The racers below all surged forward toward a tight curve—but then came a sudden fork in the road.
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Ro-Ro squinted. "Turn left! I mean—RIGHT, RIGHT, RIGHT, RIGHT!"
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MeMe squealed and yanked the wheel hard, tires screeching as the car barreled down a narrow street lined with colorful neon signs and old brick buildings. The chaos of the race vanished behind them.
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The car finally skidded to a stop in front of a warm, glowing building with a big retro sign: Sunny Shine’s Diner.
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MeMe blinked, confused. "Ro-Ro… why’d we stop?"
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Ro-Ro grabbed his gun from the panel beneath the dash, casually tucking it into the back of his pants like he was holstering a phone. He popped the door open and stepped out with a stretch and a yawn.
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"Because," he said, grinning, "this is the most legendary restaurant in all of Mexico. Sunny Shine’s. Best damn carnitas tacos you’ll ever taste. Race or not."
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"But… what about the race? And that guy with the shotgun?!"
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Ro-Ro waved her off. "Trust me, we’ll catch up. Our car’s a beast. And that guy? Fuck him. He ain’t gonna catch us. And even if he does..." He tapped the back of his pants where the Desert Eagle rested. "I’ve got some words for him."
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MeMe sighed, looking unsure, then slowly got out of the car. "...I guess you’re right."
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Ro-Ro looked over his shoulder with a cocky grin. "Course I am. C’mon, sunshine."
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The diner doors jingled as they entered. Inside, the place was frozen in time—checkered floors, vinyl booths, glowing jukebox in the corner humming out a slow, crackly love song. But what really caught MeMe’s eyes were the patrons.
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Aliens. All kinds.
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A four-armed bug-eyed thing sipped soda from three straws. A glowing blue-skinned woman was laughing with a human trucker at the bar. No one stared. No one whispered. It was… normal.
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MeMe’s eyes widened. She whispered to herself, "Whoa... aliens are allowed here? And humans are just… eating with them?"
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Ro-Ro gave her a look like she’d asked if the sky was blue. "Of course they are. Why wouldn’t they be?"
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"Well... where I’m from, there’s people who hate aliens. Think we’re dangerous or ugly or... whatever."
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Ro-Ro scoffed, grabbing a booth. "Yeah, well fuck those racist assholes. This is Mexico. People here just care if you’re hungry, not what planet you're from."
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She stood there quietly for a second, then slowly smiled and slid into the booth across from him. Her eyes drifted back to the glowing jukebox, to the soft hum of life around her.
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"...This place is nice," she whispered.
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Ro-Ro leaned back, arms stretched across the booth’s backrest like he owned the world. "Yeah. It is."
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And for a moment, the Iron Circuit didn’t exist. No blood. No fire. No racing.
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Just tacos, neon lights, and a diner where no one gave a damn what you were—as long as you were real.
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A big blue alien with tusks and a wide smile stepped out from behind the counter, his four arms wiping off plates with practiced ease.
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“Ahhh, Ro-Ro!” he boomed, voice deep and warm like a bass drum.
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Ro-Ro leaned back in his seat, arms stretched out. “What’s good, Desah?”
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Desah chuckled, his grin widening. “Been a while, old friend.”
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“Yeah, I had stuff to do back home,” Ro-Ro said, cracking his neck. “Now I’m here with MeMe.”
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MeMe gave a small, shy wave. “Hi…”
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Desah looked her over kindly, sensing the nerves behind her glowing eyes. “Well hello, MeMe. Welcome to Sunny Shine’s. What can I get you two?”
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Ro-Ro didn’t hesitate. “Gimme four tacos. Ketchup, lettuce, and blue beans.”
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Desah snapped his fingers. “What a coincidence. Already got it hot and ready.”
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He disappeared into the kitchen and returned within seconds, balancing two plates with practiced precision. He handed one to Ro-Ro and one to MeMe.
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“Enjoy,” he said, then shuffled off to greet another customer.
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Ro-Ro immediately bit into one. “Mmm… damn, that’s good.”
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MeMe blinked at her plate. “What is this?”
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Ro-Ro raised an eyebrow, his mouth half-full. “It’s a taco. You know, food that’s been around since like… forever.”
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“I don’t think I’ve ever had one before…”
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Ro-Ro smirked. “Trust me. Once you try it, you’ll get it.”
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MeMe nervously picked one up. Her fingers trembled a little. She sniffed it, then cautiously took a bite—slow, delicate, uncertain.
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And then her eyes lit up like twin suns.
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“OH MY GOD,” she shouted, mouth still full. “THIS TASTES SO GOOD—LIKE, SUPER GOOD.”
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Ro-Ro chuckled, leaning back smugly. “Told ya.”
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She eagerly scarfed the rest down in a few quick bites. “What else do you eat on Earth that tastes like this?!”
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“Oh, you’ve got no idea. Once we’re done here, we’re hitting at least five more spots. You’re gonna lose your damn mind.”
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“Yes, please!” MeMe beamed, wiping her face with a napkin.
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As they kept eating, she tilted her head. “Ro-Ro… have you been here before?”
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Ro-Ro nodded, softer this time. “Yeah. A lot actually. Came here with my pops and my siblings. Kinda became our spot… though we don’t do it as much anymore.”
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MeMe smiled faintly. “That’s nice.”
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“What about you?” Ro-Ro asked, biting into another taco. “What do you usually eat?”
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MeMe shrugged. “Mostly foil-wrapped breakfast cubes or just… noodles in sauce packets. Not much variety where I’m from.”
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Ro-Ro grimaced. “Man, that sounds miserable. Don’t worry. I’m gonna introduce you to everything. Earth’s got enough food to turn you into a food snob by the end of the week.”
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She giggled and reached for another bite—but paused when she noticed him go quiet.
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Ro-Ro’s eyes had narrowed. Across the window, outside the diner, someone stood watching them. A shadowy figure, dressed in a neon jacket, their face hidden in the shadows. They didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Just stared with unmistakable hatred.
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Ro-Ro sighed, pushing his plate forward and standing up.
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“Wait—Ro-Ro? Where are you going?” MeMe asked.
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He glanced at her with a casual grin. “To do something cool.”
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“Cool?” she frowned.
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He gave her a thumbs-up. “You can have my taco.”
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Her eyes lit up. “Really?!”
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“Yup. All yours.”
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As he walked toward the door, the jingle of the bell echoing behind him, MeMe scooted over and grabbed his taco with both hands.
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She took one big bite and closed her eyes in bliss.
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