"Quiet night, Eddie," remarked Sarah, a regular who spent more time nursing a single coffee than most people spent on a three-course meal.

The diner door swung open, and in walked a cartoon rabbit wearing a tuxedo and oversized sunglasses— himself. He didn't speak; he just pointed a gloved finger at the jukebox, and the music shifted gears into the frantic energy of "Wipe Out."

Eddie looked at the jukebox, which was now glowing a soft, satisfied blue. He picked up his rag and went back to the chrome. "I don't know," Eddie smiled. "But "

Eddie stood behind the counter, breathless, his pompadour slightly askew. Sarah sat back down, a massive grin on her face. "What was that, Eddie?" she asked, smoothing out her skirt.

He didn't select a specific record. He hit a sequence he’d never tried before: .