Wagner's Ribs

10/31/2026

Morticia and Gomez Addams walked into Wagner’s for a Halloween date.

The host looked behind them.

“Just the two of you?”

Gomez kissed Morticia’s hand.

“My beloved and I have escaped the children for one glorious evening.”

A hand crawled out of Morticia’s purse and tapped the counter.

The host stared.

Morticia sighed.

“And Thing.”

They were seated at a quiet table.

The server approached.

“Can I start you with something to drink?”

Morticia looked around the restaurant.

“Do you have anything dark, mysterious, and capable of making me forget the outside world?”

“Red wine?”

“Perfect.”

Gomez opened the menu and immediately became emotional.

“Cara mia, they have ribs.”

Morticia smiled.

“Nothing says romance like meat falling from the bone.”

Gomez ordered a full slab.

Morticia ordered a steak.

“How would you like that cooked?”

“Rare enough to concern the kitchen, but not rare enough to require an exorcism.”

Thing tapped twice on the table.

“And extra ranch,” Gomez translated.

Halfway through dinner, Uncle Fester crawled out from beneath the table.

Gomez looked shocked.

“Fester, what are you doing here?”

“I smelled the cornbread from the cemetery.”

The server quietly added another chair.

Nobody asked questions.

If you are looking for Halloween plans, come spend the afternoon with us at Wagner’s. Trick or Treat doesn’t start till 5 (HEY! 4th wall break this is real. This year trick or treating is from 5-8 in Chesterton and Porter)

We are 21 and older. But we might have some candy for those brave enough to walk through the Sheriffs Territory.

10/30/2026

The Reopening Council gathered around the table again tonight.

Nobody called the meeting.

Nobody needed to.

Bob sat quietly with his hands folded.

Wayne removed his hat.

Rick had nothing sarcastic to say.

Morty stared at the floor.

Carl rested one hand on the back of an empty chair.

Princess Donut did not complain about the seating arrangement.

Katniss put away her bow.

Even Vader’s breathing seemed quieter.

At the head of the table sat one empty chair.

In front of it rested a cup of Earl Grey.

“Should somebody say something?” Morty asked.

For a moment, nobody answered.

Then Vader looked toward the chair.

“He showed that authority did not require cruelty.”

Katniss nodded.

“He believed protecting people was more important than controlling them.”

Bob looked down at the table.

“He made kindness feel strong.”

Rick raised his glass.

“And intelligence look powerful.”

Wayne placed his hat against his chest.

“He was a good captain. That is all there is to it.”

When we brought all these characters together for Wagner’s reopening, Captain Picard belonged at the table. Among warriors, survivors, geniuses, and absolute agents of chaos, he was the steady voice who made everyone stop and listen.

Sir Patrick Stewart gave us far more than one character. He gave us Captain Picard, Professor Xavier, and a lifetime of unforgettable performances.

But tonight, that chair belongs to the captain.

Nobody will fill it.

The stars feel a little quieter today.

Rest well, Sir Patrick.

Your seat will remain at the table.

10/28/2026

The Reopening Council has been called back into session.

Everyone is sitting around the same table.

Erik places a notebook in front of him.

“We need a Facebook post.”

Captain Picard leans forward.

“It should inspire people. Remind them that even during difficult times, a good meal can bring humanity together.”

Rick takes a drink.

“Boring. He lost me at humanity.”

Morty looks uncomfortable.

“I thought it was nice, Rick.”

“Of course you did, Morty. You think birthday cards are emotionally complex.”

Darth Vader begins breathing heavily.

Erik looks over.

“Do you have an idea?”

“Announce the ribs.”

“That is not really a story.”

“Then announce them more dramatically.”

Wayne crosses his arms.

“If you are going to write a restaurant post, you ought to keep it simple. Tell people the food is good. Tell them where you are. No need to turn the whole thing into some big production.”

Everyone slowly looks around the room.

Wayne nods.

“I see the problem now.”

Carl puts both hands on the table.

“We need a boss battle. The kitchen is surrounded. The ticket printer has become self aware. Our only weapons are barbecue sauce and whatever Donut can knock off the counter.”

Princess Donut gasps.

“CARL, I AM AN AWARD WINNING CULINARY PERSONALITY. I DO NOT KNOCK THINGS OFF COUNTERS.”

Carl stares at her.

“You knocked three glasses off the counter this morning.”

“THEY WERE POORLY POSITIONED.”

Katniss raises her hand.

“What if customers have to fight for the last rack of ribs?”

Erik shakes his head.

“We generally try to avoid making customers fight.”

Rick opens a portal.

“Fine. We go to another dimension where Wagner’s has an unlimited advertising budget.”

Rick steps through the portal.

Three seconds later, he walks back.

“Never mind. That Wagner’s became a bank.”

Bob sighs.

“Couldn’t we just write something honest? Tell people we appreciate them. Tell them to come in, have dinner, and relax for a while.”

The table becomes quiet.

Erik begins writing.

Bob smiles.

“You liked my idea?”

“No. I’m writing down everything that just happened.”

Rick looks offended.

“So the post is about us trying to write the post?”

“Exactly.”

“That is incredibly lazy.”

“And yet you all showed up.”

Come see us at Wagner’s. The ribs are ready, the drinks are cold, and absolutely none of these people have been authorized to make business decisions.
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10/26/2026

After years of legend, rumors, and people saying, “I heard it might open soon,” Mineral Springs Road is finally open.

Indiana Jones arrived early this morning wearing his hat, carrying a whip, and holding a map that appeared to have been printed sometime before the bridge closed.

He stepped cautiously onto the road.

“According to the legend, an entire civilization once traveled this way.”

He pushed through the fog and discovered the Spring House Inn.

“Remarkable.”

A few steps later, he found the Speakeasy at the Spa and Pizzeria Uno.

“My God. They had pizza.”

He continued north toward the Indiana Dunes, expecting ancient traps, rolling boulders, or at least one skeleton clutching a construction schedule.

Nothing. Just an open road.

Indiana removed his hat and stared into the distance.

“All this time, the treasure was easy access to local businesses.”

So congratulations to our neighbors on Mineral Springs Road. You are officially back on the map.

Go explore. Visit the businesses that waited patiently through this adventure.

No whip required.

10/26/2026

10/24/2026

Somewhere inside Avengers Tower…

Nick Fury: “I’m here to talk to you about the Wagner’s Initiative.”

Tony Stark: “Please tell me this isn’t another world ending threat.”

Fury: “Worse. They’re short on servers.”

Captain America: “How short?”

Fury: “We’re talking open availability. Nights. Weekends. The whole operation.”

Thor: “I SHALL ANSWER THIS CALL! FOR I AM THOR, GOD OF THUNDER!”

Fury: “Can you carry six drinks without spilling them?”

Thor: “…”

Fury: “Didn’t think so.”

Spider-Man: “I could probably carry like twelve tables at once.”

Tony: “Kid, that’s not how sections work.”

Bruce Banner: “What happens when someone asks for extra ranch for the fifth time?”

Fury: “That’s exactly why you’re not allowed on the floor.”

Suddenly, Doctor Strange opens a portal.

Doctor Strange: “I’ve looked into 14,000,605 possible futures.”

Tony: “And?”

Strange: “In every single one, table seven needs another refill.”

Deadpool: Walks in carrying a tray of ribs.

“Look, I don’t know who wrote this crossover, but Wagner’s Ribs is hiring servers, and apparently we’re running out of superheroes.”

Fury: “We need dependable people. Hard workers. Team players. People with OPEN AVAILABILITY.”

Captain America: “I can do this all day.”

Fury: “Perfect. You’re hired.”

WAGNER’S RIBS IS NOW HIRING SERVERS!

We’re looking for reliable, hardworking people with OPEN AVAILABILITY to join our team!

Wagner’s Ribs Porter, Indiana

Interested? Stop in and apply!

No superpowers required. Just show up, work hard, and don’t make us call Thanos to cover a Saturday night shift.

10/22/2026

It’s all connected.

Mulder had waited his entire career for this moment.

He and Scully walked into Wagner’s and found two men in black suits sitting at the bar with the seven foot alien in the Vikings jersey.

Mulder stopped dead.

“Scully.”

“No.”

“You have not even looked yet.”

“I already know what you are going to say.”

Agent J slowly lowered his fork.

“This is awkward.”

Agent K reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small silver device.

Scully pointed at it.

“Do not flash that thing at me.”

Agent J looked impressed.

“She knows about the thing.”

Mulder placed the photograph of our redacted menu on the bar.

“We know you are hiding something.”

Agent K studied the picture.

“This information is classified.”

“I knew it,” Mulder whispered.

Scully sighed.

“It is a restaurant menu.”

“That has been completely redacted.”

“Because they are changing it.”

A strange sizzling sound came from the kitchen.

The alien leaned toward Mulder.

“I saw what they are testing back there.”

Everyone turned toward him.

“Well?” Mulder asked.

The alien lowered his voice.

“It smelled incredible.”

Agent K immediately flashed the silver device.

The alien blinked.

“What were we talking about?”

Agent J reached across the bar and took the last piece of cornbread from his plate.

“Nothing important.”

The kitchen door opened.

A cook stepped out carrying a covered dish.

Mulder lunged toward it.

Agent K blocked him.

“You did not see that.”

“I am looking directly at it.”

Another bright flash filled the restaurant.

The next morning, Mulder woke up in his office holding an empty Wagner’s takeout box.

He had no memory of the night before.

Inside the box was one note.

THE NEW MENU IS COMING.

The truth is out there.

Apparently, it is also in our kitchen.

We are 21 and older. And don’t trash out Halloween decorations because you don’t like it.

Please bring your ID, unless it glows and lists your birthplace as another galaxy.

10/16/2026

Never ask the universe for help during a Friday dinner rush unless you are extremely specific.

One of our servers looked around the dining room and said, “We need help. We need help. We need help.”

The lights flickered. The jukebox stopped. A man in a striped suit appeared beside the host stand.

“Did somebody call?”

The manager stared at him.

“Do you have restaurant experience?”

“I have worked with the public for centuries.”

(A clip of the interview is provided)

Honestly, that was good enough.

He grabbed an apron and approached his first table.

“Welcome to Wagner’s. Tonight’s specials include ribs, steak, and several legally questionable supernatural experiences.”

The table ordered ribs. He snapped his fingers. The ribs appeared immediately, floating six inches above the table while the cornbread sang backup.

The manager pulled him aside.

“We do not serve food like that.”

“You should. They loved it.”

At the next table, someone asked for their steak well done.

The entire dining room went silent.

Even the ghost looked uncomfortable.

By the end of the night, every table had been served, three chairs were stuck to the ceiling, and a sandworm had been politely refused entry because it did not have identification.

Before leaving, the new server asked if he was scheduled again tomorrow.

The manager slowly backed away.

“We will call you.”

So if dinner at home is starting to feel like a strange and unusual punishment, come see us at Wagner’s this weekend.

We are 21 and older.

Please bring your ID.

And whatever you do, do not say his name three times.

10/14/2026

NEW QUEST!

Carl and Princess Donut have entered Wagner’s.

The dining room is full.

The kitchen is moving.

The dishes are beginning to form a small but increasingly organized rebellion.

The dungeon AI speaks.

“Attention, crawlers. A new employment opportunity has appeared.”

Carl looks up.

“What kind of opportunity?”

“Wagner’s is hiring 2 dishwashers and 1 or 2 servers.”

Donut jumps onto the bar.

“THIS IS WONDERFUL, CARL. WE SHALL RECRUIT A TEAM OF HIGHLY TRAINED PROFESSIONALS TO SERVE THE ROYAL COURT.”

“We need servers, Donut. Not royal servants.”

“THAT IS LITERALLY THE SAME WORD, CARL.”

A crash echoes from the dish room.

The AI continues.

“Dishwasher applicants should be dependable, hardworking, and unafraid of entering a room containing enough plates to qualify as a dungeon boss.”

Carl stares toward the dish room.

“Does the position come with protective equipment?”

“An apron!!.”

“That is not protective equipment.”

The AI ignores him.

“Server applicants should be friendly, organized, and capable of remembering who asked for ranch after everyone at the table claims it was not them.”

Donut nods.

“A RARE AND POWERFUL SKILL.”

Mongo screeches from beneath a table.

“MONGO IS APPALLED THAT HE CANNOT APPLY.”

We are currently hiring 2 dishwasher and one or two servers at Wagner’s.
Dishwashers need to be at least 16 years old. We are flexible with school and sports. Servers need to be 21 and older.

If you are dependable, ready to work, and willing to join our slightly chaotic party, stop in and fill out an application or send us a message.

Experience earns bonus points.

Surviving the dinner rush earns legendary status.

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