About The Usual, Please
"Welcome, lad. First night, isn't it."
Your uncle Joe ran the last burger cart on the pier. Then he drowned. Now the cart is yours, and so is the light.
This autumn the fog came in thicker than ever. The ferry stopped. The coast road shut. And the people who died at sea started climbing up the ladders, wet and cold and hungry, walking to the only light left on the harbour. Yours.
Cook for the town. Watch for anyone who's dripping. Pull the alarm, and the masked men of the Harbour Watch come out of the fog to take them away. Don't ask where.
Everyone blames the fog. You have five nights to find out who really killed your uncle.
What you do
5 nights at the counter, in first person
Cook every order by hand, one burger at a time
Report the drowned, or feed them, and live with what happens next
Dreams that show a little more of the night Joe died
2 endings. You choose who takes the blame.