John pulled up to the old fire house that was now the dwelling of the one and only Ghost Buster business. He had sent in an application and was accepted. They had phoned him this morning, telling him to show up with his bags and an open mind. Taking a deep breath he walked to the door with a suit case in his right hand. This is it Egbert, your dream is coming true...if you can handle the spot. He slowly opens the door, setting off a little bell as he walks in. A red haired secretary is siting at a desk across the room, chewing bubble gum like a cow and reading a vogue magazine.
She looks up at him, lifting an eyebrow as she pulls down her spectacles as if to say "Who the heck are you?". John fills with excitement as he smiles brightly.
"Uh, Hi! I'm John Egbert. I got called in this morning, I apologize for being late"
She looked confused and began to shuffle through the stack of papers on her desk. Shaking her head she looked back up at him and said "Sorry hun, I don't see anything about you showing up or being hired".
In that instant John's heart started to race with panic. This was all he ever tried to do ever since he discovered the business was not fictional. He studied the slime, the gadgets, even created his own...could they have had already filled in the spot in that small amount of time he was late?
"Are you really sure?" He blurted out quickly, taking a small step forward, gripping the handles of his suit cases from anxiety.
Before the women could tell John to leave someone walked into the front lobby, quickly changing the situation. His hair was a cherry blond and upon his freckled nose rested a pair of mirrored aviator shades "Are you John?"
A sigh of relief whistled out of the rookies lips as he stood up straight to give a good impression.
"Yeah! That's me alright. Haha, sorry I got here late."
"It's cool man. You are going to be my new partner, well, if you can handle the shit that goes down...and if you don't die" He holds out a hand to John, giving a slight nod.
"The names Dave Strider, don't call me Mr. Strider, because that's not my name. I would say it's my Dad, but it isn't."
John shook his partners hand and flinched by the strong, sincere grip. Dave couldn't of been any older then himself, John thought; but his gestures and vibes seemed so intimidating, experienced, and dabbed with a patina of condescension. Dave's fixation seemed to be off at a different direction besides looking at John, and he wondered what the guy was focusing on, but since his eyes were beneath those dark frames it was hard to decipher.