The car, the bike and the food

The woman looked on as her car rolled down the hill along with the bike that had crashed into it. Both occupants had climbed out to participate in a heated debate on the assignment of blame. Slowly gaining momentum, the vehicles looked as if they were being driven by ghosts, to an unassuming passerby. It was a long walk downhill and running after the rolling bodies would not be fruitful in any way. Their eyes followed the trail until the vehicles slowly halted, after which they sighed and began the descend.

There was this risk of someone driving away with their belongings and the worried twosome looked ready to break into a run at the slightest sign of this happening. Someone called on her phone. It was a young lady who had found her car and asked if she could keep it safe in her her house so she could retrieve it. The woman gleefully agreed. The lady also offered the woman have dinner with her family when she reaches the foot of the hill. 'Sounds good.' the woman accepted. The young lady began describing all the dishes they were preparing and saliva glistened at the corner of the woman's mouth. 'I'll be there.' she reassured and hung up.

The biker guy received a similar call which he politely declined.

He called the woman the next day to sort out the insurance. The walk downhill had eventually burdened them into becoming cordial, if not friends.

"I can't leave." the lady whispered.

"What? What is it?" a sense of foreboding set in.

"Never accept food from vehicle-keepers." she looked around to check if anyone was spying on her.

"Food?"

"Yes. Never eat food from them. They bind you into being part of their deliriously happy family. They are delusional and they make you one too." Her eyes locked on to a plate of dessert.

"How are you talking to me now?"

"The effects wore off. But..." she munched on a piece of cake, "say, would you like to have dinner with my family?"