"I'm sorry." Billy, Sonny's first-ever boss, said as he piled trays. "I'm going to need back your smock. You'll need to find something else in work-study. You're—"
Sonny looked over his head to Brown University's cross-and-sun emblem, wondering what he had done with his life.
T
"Fired!" Joanna said with her hands on her hips. She stomped out of her office and slammed the door, and the smell of cheese lingered.
E
"—no longer needed here." Mystery Cruises Miranda peered blankly at him over piles of untouched paperwork. "I'll need your nametag back."
R
"YOU'VE MESSED WITH MY PENCILS FOR THE LAST TIME, SPACEMAN!" Mason barked. "Nico says you're fired."
M
"FIRED! FIRED! FIRED!" Minette screamed.
I
"Sei licenziato!" Signore Carnevale shook his fist, spaghetti hanging from his arms and sliding off his head.
N
Small squares of light played across the DJ's face, downplaying the apathetic expression even further. He just shrugged. "Sorry."
A
"Given your role in the simian insurrection, you're quite fortunate that the research center is, um, closing so suddenly," said the Dread Isle lead scientist as he mopped his brow. "Nevertheless, you're still fired."
T
"Sonny, bless your heart." Jon Boyle took off his spectacles and wiped them on his shirt. "I really do appreciate your compassion in trying to save that locust from being stepped on. But I'm afraid I just can't have you tackling other diggers, however well-meaning, and running through the site without regard for the artifacts lying around."
E
"Mr. Joon… I'm not sure how to tell you this. It's a highly unusual situation, heretofore believed by many to be impossible. Somehow, you have managed to out-paranormal Paranormal. For that reason, we can no longer use you as a tour guide."
D
*crash* "Fired!" P. G. Krolmeister wiped his brow.
!
"...AND STAY OUT!" Sonny dodged a sheep.
"Sonny?" Grandpa Jin said weakly.
He sat forward, squeezing his grandfather's feeble hand with both of his. "I'm here, Grandpa Jin."
"Sonny, my boy," a moment's strength entered his fingers as he grasped Sonny's hand.
"Yes, Grandpa?" Sonny asked, fighting back tears.
"I have to hand down S.P.I.E.D., my legacy, my life—" he rasped, "to someone responsible, strong." He wheezed. "Caring."
Sonny leaned forward. "Grandpa, I'm honored, I love y—"
"You're fired," he coughed. He fell back on the sheets, and the machine flat-lined.
AN: … and only about fifty percent of these was Sonny's fault. The spaghetti came from a waiter tripping on another waiter's foot as a result of staring at Sonny's hair. As for the last part: cruel, I know. Poor Sonny!