Dirk hated his job. He hated stocking the shelves. He hated the customers, with their stupid questions. He hated that he couldn't mock them when they asked those stupid questions. The thing he hated the most? The dress code.

He couldn't wear his favorite gloves. They wouldn't let him wear his hat, he couldn't even spike his hair! The worst thing though, was that they wouldn't let him wear his shades. He made those shades with his own hands, it wasn't exactly easy either. He'd started small and worked his way up, practicing until he'd gotten them just right. His first, and smallest, pair were nearly perfect. However, his next few attempts had gone downhill. He'd made a few bad pairs before finally getting into the design again and making the pair he wore now. They were his prize possession, beyond the C-man, although he wasn't really a "possession" so much as "the coolest fuckin' roommate that ever graced the planet".

Today though, he was going to do something about it. Or rather, he wasn't going to do anything different than he normally would on any other day. Even now he was skating toward his job, hair tucked safely in his hat and the world dulled by his shades. It was gonna be an awesome day. He stopped outside the Walmart Supercenter, picking up his board and walking in. He headed straight toward the back of the store, where the employees were supposed to gather before their shift started.

The store meeting for his shift had just gotten over and the employees were dispersing. Once one of them noticed him, a buzz descended over the crowd and the manager turned his attention toward him. He leaned against the wall, waiting for the stocky, balding man to totter over to him.

"Mr. Strider, you aren't wearing your uniform. Are you aware you were scheduled to work today?" He asked, slightly short of breath from his walk.

Dirk suppressed a smirk. "Yeah, I know I work. I showed up, didn't I?"

"Then why aren't you in uniform, Mr. Strider?"

"Cause these uniforms blow harder than an eager hooker."

The man's eyes seemed to bulge out of his head for a moment, causing Dirk to fail to suppress the smirk any longer. "What? I... Mr. Strider, please keep your dirty comments to yourself!"

Dirk nodded. "You got it, Boss. Just keep 'em all locked in here like an abused kid in a basement. Banging on the door asking for food they ain't gonna get. And by food, in this case, I mean get uttered." He said, tapping on his head.

The manager's face grew red, but he kept his composure. "Mr. Strider! Grab one of these uniforms and get to work! I'll be keeping an eye on you, and I SUGGEST you work hard these coming weeks if you value your job!"

Dirk turned away from him and the gathering crowd of employees. "Sure dude, you got it." He said, walking past the extra uniforms.

He walked out of the back and headed toward the cooking aisle. His manager followed behind him, keeping an even stride and smiling at every customer he passed. Dirk scoffed, continuing on. The manager caught up to him near the puddings and tapped him on the shoulder. "Sup?" He asked, staring vacantly at the wall of delicious goo, trying to decide which one to buy.

"Mr. Strider, you are completely out of line!" He whispered urgently, glancing about nervously to see if any customers were within earshot.

"Dude, you need to chill your shit down. I'm making a culinary selection here." He said loudly enough for several people to glance over at him.

The manager flinched as if he'd been struck. "Alright, you've made your point." He said pleadingly, reaching into his pocket. "Here, just write your name on this nametag. Tomorrow, come into work early and we can discuss whatever's troubling you. Sound good?"

Dirk cocked an eyebrow at the man, swiping the ticket and jotting on it with a pen he pulled out of his pocket. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"We don't need our image tarnished by some stupid kid on a revenge binge." The man said in a hushed voice.

Dirk couldn't help himself, he started to laugh. "Ahahahaha, oh man! Fuckin' seriously? 'Some stupid kid'? Alright, let's set some shit straight. First off..." He said, removing the sticker which now read "Hello! My name is Pantytwist McCoy." and slapping it on the flabbergasted man's chest.

"I am NOT some stupid kid. I am practically brighter than the sun, it should be the rest of the world rockin' shades 'stead of me. Now I can see where you'd get this ridiculous idea, seein' as all I do is try to ignore you as best I can to preserve some small portion of my sanity." He continued, slapping the man's hand in a motion almost too quick to follow as he reached to remove the name tag.

"You must be out of your mind. Get out of here this instant! Consider yourself unemployed! It's kids like you..." The man said, removing the tag and pointing toward the main entrance.

Dirk fixed his gaze on the man, who was still ranting. He didn't need to hear his babbling anymore. He thought it was high time he brought him down a peg. He'd grown up on the street, he'd been in his share of fights. Hell, he'd fought for money more than a few times.

He was strong enough, but what he was really proud of was his speed. No one he had ever fought knew how much he was holding back, he had to put on a show after all. When it came down to it though, he was always just fast enough to avoid that trip or duck that punch when it counted. His true abilities however were much more impressive.

Dirk seemed to twitch, and suddenly the man toppled over holding his gut. There was no way he'd seen the solid punch Dirk had landed, and Dirk had practiced in front of cameras. All the security would see was a middle aged man falling over.

Dirk selected one of the puddings in front of him, stepping over his previous manager, and walked up front to pay. A crowd gathered behind him, but he just kept walking, putting the past behind him and only looking ahead.

After paying, he went back outside getting on his board and pulled out his phone. He weaved through the people on the busy sidewalk effortlessly, texting his buddy Dave the whole time.

"Hey man, quit my job."

"Bout' time, what u gonna do 4 money now? Gotta bring in that change somehow."

Dirk hadn't put much thought into that, though it didn't matter. He could pick up any number of minimum wage jobs in a heartbeat. He probably qualified for some higher paying jobs as well, but he just didn't want to sit at a desk all day, or dress up in a stupid monkey suit. He just wanted to do shit at his own pace.

"Man, I'll just start my own business or somethin'. Crank out some fly beats and sell puppets or some shit."

"Haha, whatev man. Wanna meet at the shop?"

"Yeah, just gotta stop at my place first."

Dirk adjusted his course, his apartment wasn't far off. He'd drop off his spoils of victory and head over to the record shop where Dave worked. He headed up the stairs, taking them several at a time, and dropped off the pudding. Heading back toward the door, he stopped before leaving.

He couldn't get his mind off the dream he'd had the previous week. He'd dreamt of a planet that reminded him of a chessboard.

He just sort of stared at it for awhile before he'd heard a voice. "Do not doubt yourself Dirk. Soon there will be a tremendous change in your life. You will gain something of untold value, though it will cost you dearly as well. You shall have a hand in the fate of your entire universe. Forge ahead with the knowledge that you have the capability to handle anything that stands before you. And when the foretold day finally arrives, you will have done everything in your power to prepare your brother for his role in what is to come."

He'd kinda written it off as a bad cheeseburger the night before, the thing had been in the fridge for like...A week?, but he remembered the words vividly to this day. He'd also found it kind of nonsensical, seeing as he didn't have a brother, but who was he to tell dreams they had to make fuckin' sense? He grabbed Cal and stored him in his sylladex. He also grabbed the shades he'd made, the small pair. They didn't quite fit Cal, so he didn't really know why he had kept them, besides the fact that they were the first pair he'd made. He tucked them in his pocket regardless, as it just somehow felt right.

With that he finally felt ready to leave, narrowly avoiding a young couple on the stairs. They shouted at him as he jumped down the last five stairs, landing on his board and skating out the door. He put some honest thought into his puppet idea. He'd seen some pretty weird shit in his time, he wouldn't be surprised if people would pay to see puppets doin' weird shit. God knows how he could portray things, his mind was like a cavern of lewd imagery just begging to be let out.

He snapped from his reverie when he noticed something in the sky. At first he'd written it off as a plane, but now that he could see it was getting closer he could tell that clearly was not the case. It actually seemed to be heading straight for the record shop. He unconsciously picked up his pace, keeping an eye on the mysterious object.

It wasn't long until he realized that it was a meteor, an unbelievably large one at that. He pulled out his phone, urgently pulling up Dave's number and texting him.

"Dude, you need to get out now! There's a crazy fuckin' meteor headed straight for you!"

"What? Hang on with your crazy ass stories, I got a customer here."

Dirk made for the shop as quickly as possible, though the meteor was headed faster by the second. He nearly wiped as he rounded a corner too fast, but the shop was in sight now. The meteor was close enough for Dirk to make out details by now, and it was going to be a close race. He was only two blocks from the store when it became clear the meteor would strike first.

He pulled out his phone, dialing Dave's number. It rang twice before he picked up. A block away. "Dude, what? Can't it wait till you get here?"

"Get the hell out Dave!" Half a block.

"What? Man is that you? Slow down you're gonna crash through the doors."

Dirk saw Dave standing in the doorway, reaching out to him futiley. The impact of the meteor knocked him off his board and sent him sailing backward. He managed to land in a crouch, catching his board before it flew past. He shielded his eyes with his arm as the blast pelted him with debris.

Once the commotion subsided he looked up to see nothing but a giant hole where the shop had once stood. He ran to the edge of the crater, frantically searching for any sign of his friend. He found nothing of that sort, what he did find however caused his jaw to drop. In the center of the crater sat a baby, gurgling contentedly on top of a dead pony.

"What the hell?" He said to himself. He hopped into the crater, sliding down the rather steep edge with ease. Walking over to the baby, he examined it closer. He couldn't help but notice that its face bore a resemblance to his own, which he found unsettling.

"The fuck is this? Final Fantasy twentysevenbillion? Meteor crushes my friend and it turns out there's some retarded space baby riding it." He said, standing over the odd scene with his arms folded in front of him. "Man, what the hell do I do?"

He thought about leaving the kid there, some schmuck would take pity and save the thing. Then again... the words from the dream came back to him. "You shall gain something of untold value, though it will cost you dearly as well." He knelt down toward the baby, pulling the small pair of shades out of his pocket. He held them out toward the child, who snatched them up almost instantly.

The baby stared at them for a while, seemingly deciding whether to chew on them or toss them, before suddenly shoving them onto its face. It giggled with delight, clapping its tiny hands. Dirk smiled at the sight, but was quickly drawn to the sound of sirens closing in. He had a decision to make it seemed. Leave the kid, or take it with him. He wasn't really fit to be anyone's dad, but there was something about this kid.

The child looked at him, reaching out toward his face. "Bro..." It gurgled, then the shades fell off his face and he began to cry.

Dirk's heart melted at the sight. "Come on, let's get you outta here before this place is crawlin' with cops." He said, scooping up the kid.

The only thing left to do was give him a name. He hoisted the baby on to his shoulders, hanging on to his legs. He picked up the pony as well, storing it in his sylladex, no need to have the police thinking some alien horse had decimated the record shop. "Back to my place, that cool with you Dave?"