When the hamburgers all disappeared, along with the buns I was warming, I thought I was seeing things. But when my spatula went through the cast-iron grill top - I had to let it go out of reflex. No way was I going after it - I'd been burned too many times. It wasn't like I had a choice after that. Because the grill itself dropped out through the bottom of the rolling coach we were cooking out of that summer. I looked up at Ham, my order-taker, partner, and lover - only to see her fall through the floor as well. A look of shock and trying to say something, but frozen in time. Then the coach disappeared, and I fell with it - but only as far as the pavement it used to be parked on. I could see the asphalt beneath my feet at least. Until it turned to some sort of foamy waves lapping on a beach I'd never seen before. Green hard-packed sand. Green water. And a long white line that went down this beach like it was some sort of dual-lane highway... Get Your Copy Now.