Grinner's Diner

[h1]Welcome to the night shift.[/h1]
Grinner's Diner is a roadside burger joint deep in the Appalachian hills. The pay is bad. The fryer is worse. And once the sun goes down, the regulars stop being people.

Grab up to three friends (or go it alone), flip the sign to OPEN, and cook every order with your own two clumsy physics hands.

[h1]Serve the humans...[/h1]
Grill, fry, stack, sauce, bag and throw. Every burger is built by hand, one wobbly layer at a time.

A drive-thru window, a counter and tables, all yelling for food at once.

Proximity voice chat, so you hear the panic from across the kitchen.

[h1]...then feed the things that aren't.[/h1]
The Jersey Devil doesn't want a bag. It hovers at the pickup window with its jaws open, and you'd better land that burger in its mouth.

Miss, and it screams. The lights die. Someone has to walk out to the breaker in the dark.

Cryptids only eat cryptid food. The good stuff is kept at the back of the walk-in freezer, and the back of the freezer is further away than it should be. Wild leeks grow in the woods out back, where something stands at the tree line, perfectly still, watching you work.

Lock the doors at closing.
When the night runs out, get everyone inside, slam the shutter and hold the diner while the crowd from the trees tries to get in. Patch the doors. Keep the lantern lit. Don't go outside.

[h1]How many nights can you keep the grill on?[/h1]
Every customer you let down chips at the crew's nerve, and the lower it gets, the more of your customers have too many teeth. Dead crewmates spectate until dawn and can talk to each other, but the living can't hear them. Each shift is busier than the last. There's no finish line, just how long you last.

Early Access: one person makes this game, and it grows with every patch. More cryptids, more dishes and more of the diner are on the way, built with the crews who play it. Come tell us what broke.