Restaurant at the End of the Universe Opens Early
Reservations required—expect time dilation fees and paradox surcharges.
PALO ALTO, CA – A shocking discovery has rocked the scientific community after interdimensional investigators confirmed that the legendary Restaurant at the End of the Universe has inexplicably opened its doors 4.7 billion years ahead of schedule, sending ripples through space-time that have already begun affecting earthbound diners’ credit scores.
The establishment, previously thought to exist only in the final moments before universal heat death, began accepting reservations last Tuesday through what appears to be a temporal booking system disguised as a food delivery app called “EatrnityEats.” Sources within the galactic hospitality industry reveal that the restaurant’s premature opening has triggered a cascade of chronological complications that threaten to destabilize the very fabric of reality—and dinner service.
Dr. Quintessa Blackhole, a theoretical physicist at Stanford’s Department of Impossible Sciences, stumbled upon the phenomenon while investigating anomalous readings from her quantum lunch detector. “I was simply trying to locate a decent taco truck when my instruments started screaming about temporal fractures,” Blackhole explained, her laboratory still shimmering with residual time distortion. “The energy signatures were unmistakable—someone had opened a restaurant that shouldn’t exist for billions of years.”
The restaurant, accessible only through a series of increasingly expensive interdimensional tolls, has already begun charging what industry insiders describe as “astronomical” fees for basic services. Early diners report being hit with unexpected surcharges including a 15% “causality violation fee,” mandatory 18% “temporal mechanics gratuity,” and a devastating “grandfather paradox insurance premium” that has bankrupted at least three alternate timeline versions of wealthy tech billionaires.
Marcus Temporalfork, a self-proclaimed “time-food critic” who claims to have dined at the establishment using borrowed decades from his future self, described the experience as “transcendently expensive.” Temporalfork, whose age appears to fluctuate wildly during conversation, reported that appetizers alone cost him seventeen years of his natural lifespan. “The breadsticks were decent, but they charged me three months per roll,” he complained, his hair visibly graying as he spoke. “And don’t get me started on the wine list—they wanted my entire childhood for a glass of house red.”
Government agencies have scrambled to respond to the crisis, with the newly-formed Department of Temporal Revenue already issuing warnings about potential tax implications for diners who consume meals outside their native timeline. Sources within the agency, speaking on condition of anonymity due to fears of being erased from existence, confirm that several prominent celebrities have already been audited for “temporal tax evasion” after attempting to write off universe-ending dining experiences as business expenses.
The restaurant’s management, a mysterious collective of post-mortal entities known only as “The Eternal Waitstaff,” has refused to comment on the early opening, communicating only through cryptic menu updates that appear spontaneously in diners’ dreams. However, leaked internal documents suggest the premature launch was triggered by an accounting error in which someone confused “end of fiscal universe” with “end of universe,” leading to a catastrophic scheduling mishap that has left cosmic health inspectors scrambling to establish safety protocols for restaurants that technically violate the laws of physics.
Intelligence sources warn that the restaurant’s existence poses an imminent threat to linear time, with booking confirmations already arriving for customers years before they place their orders. The situation has prompted emergency meetings at the United Nations’ newly-established Committee on Interdimensional Hospitality Regulation, though progress has been hampered by the fact that half the committee members haven’t been born yet and the other half ceased existing last Thursday.
As investigations continue, authorities urge civilians to avoid making reservations unless they can afford both the monetary cost and the existential consequences of dining at the literal end of everything—with tip included.
The characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is unintentional and purely coincidental.
