Meetings in Castle Bleck always started on time. Nastasia set the schedule at the beginning of every week for two in advance, and hung it in the kitchen for all the minions to see. Any changes were accompanied by a memo delivered to everyone's room so that they would be certain to know about it. The meetings started promptly on the hour, with everyone present and accounted for. There was no contingency plan for starting the meeting if anybody was late, because no one had ever dared to be late by more than a few minutes, except for when Dimentio couldn't be bothered to show up (in which case the contingency plan was "don't wait for Dimentio.")

That's why, ten minutes after the scheduled meeting time, Count Bleck, Tippi, Nastasia, Dimentio, Mimi, and O'Chunks were all standing on their pedestals, waiting awkwardly for the last member to show up. Mr. L had never been this late before, even or late at all. Nastasia stood on her pedestal, lips pressed tightly together, and the other minions stood by, slightly too meek to speak up.

"Um..." Mimi raised her hand. "I know that we don't like to get started before everyone's here, so that you don't have to, like, repeat yourself and junk, but... don't you think we should get started?" Waiting for ten minutes is hard, but doubly tedious when you're standing up with nothing to focus on to distract yourself. As far as Mimi knew, they'd been waiting close to an hour and her skinny little knees were killing her.

Before Nastasia could answer, the door to the meeting room flew open and Mr. L came charging in. He was running as quickly as he could while also trying to fit his arms through his sleeves, get his feet all the way in his boots, and tie his black mask over his face. It looked like he hadn't had a chance to change from his Luigi clothes before he arrived. "I'm here! I'm here!" he shouted. "Did you start without me? I can catch up!" He squeezed down and jumped up as hard as he could, landing on his pedestal. His bandanna fell off and floated down to the ground. "Oh, darn!"

Dimentio clicked his fingers, transporting the bandanna from the ground below to Mr. L's feet. Gratefully, Mr. L picked up the bandanna and tied it around his neck. "Sorry I'm late," he muttered.

"Not at all," said Count Bleck, though his voice was not quite as courteous as it normally was. Nastasia remained silent. "Though we do need to get started quickly, as there's much ground to cover."

"Quite right," agreed Nastasia. She picked up her clipboard. "First item on the agenda: Our next goodwill mission is to be to Seaside Town. The fisherman's boats keep running into trouble with the pirate Jonathan Jones, and they need a third party to settle their territory disputes. O'Chunks, we'll need you to fight the pirate in case things get rough. He's a huge blue shark. Think you can handle that?"

O'Chunks flexed his muscles. "Think I can handle it? Yer talkin' to O'Chunks here, lass. If there's a pirate I can't chunks, I ehn't found 'im and chunked 'im yet."

"Very good," said Nastasia. She made a check mark on her clipboard. "Mimi, we'll need you to transform into one of his Bandana Blue buddies and collect intel. think you can do that?"

"Okay," said Mimi, "but I'll need help with my tough guy talk. Also, can I do a Bandana Red? Blue is so out this season."

"Yes you may, and O'Chunks, please coach Mimi in punk etiquette."

"Yeh want me to do two things?"

"Dimentio," Nastasia continued, "Yeah, so, I have you scheduled to go off on your own and manipulate the situation to meet your own ends. Should I go ahead and keep that in?"

"Yes, that sounds about right," said Dimentio.

"Mr. L?"

Mr. L winced. "Yes, Nastasia?"

"Will you be coming on this mission?"

The way she said that, so thick with irritation, made Mr. L's stomach feel tight. "Yes ma'am," said Mr. L.

"Very good. Your Brobot is most effective at crowd control. Now. I'll turn the floor over to Miss Timpani, who will brief you in all the information you'll need to know." She handed a small stack of packets to O'Chunks. "Take one and pass it around. Please refer to the packets as you listen, and use these as reference before and during the mission."

Tippi, as an information pixl, was able to tell them all about Seaside Town, the toads there, the fishing industry, the thriving marketplace that was the backbone of their economy, the multiculturalism that came from being a port town, and anything else she thought it useful to know. She also knew a fair deal about Jonathan "Johnny" Jones, and the minions were far more interested as she told them tales of the haunted, sunken, giant-squid-infested ship he and his bandana sharks called home. Mr. L paid special attention, hoping to make up for not having been there earlier.

The meeting ended ten minutes late, as Nastasia had planned it to be exactly one hour long. As soon as the minute hand hit 12 on the clock the minions grew antsy and restless, but she kept them there until 1:10 on the nose before she finished talking and nodded to Count Bleck. Taking his cue, Count Bleck called, "Meeting adjourned. Minions, you are dismissed." The minions were already jumping off their pedestals and making plans to meet up and hang out for a while when Count Bleck added, "Mr. L, may I speak to you for a moment?"

Mr. L froze, but then looked up and grinned nervously. "Uh, sure."

Count Bleck dismissed Nastasia and sent Tippi on ahead before floating down to the ground to meet Mr. L. "You're not in trouble," Count Bleck said.

Normally, people said that to reassure whomever they were talking to, but it never succeeded in allaying any fears. "So why did you keep me after?"

"It's about your habitual tardiness," said Count Bleck.

"Habitual?" Mr. L looked surprised. "It's only been a few times."

"Five times in a row," Count Bleck pointed out. "I wasn't going to say anything because a few minutes here and there can easily be written off. But since it was so long today..."

"I know," Mr. L said quickly. "It's just that I can't get through dimensions myself, and I stayed longer than I thought I was going to..."

"Where have you been going?" asked Count Bleck.

"Going? Where? Me? Uh, nowhere." His face went red, as it always did when he was hiding something.

Count Bleck tilted his head.

"Home," admitted Mr. L with a sag in his shoulders. "I've been visiting with my brother a lot lately."

To his surprise, Count Bleck smiled. "I'm glad to hear that."

"... You are?"

"Yes. Count Bleck always has said family is important. It saddens me to think of you spending little time with your own brother."

"I promise I won't be late again," said Mr. L.

"If you let us know ahead of time, it's alright to miss a meeting," said Count Bleck. "Like I said, family is important."

"Yeah," said Mr. L.

"Go on," said Count Bleck. "You may do as you wish."

Mr. L found the others outside. Dimentio was helping O'Chunks set up a homemade, balsa wood goalpost in the front yard. Another goalpost was lying in the dirt nearby. Mimi was digging a hole in the ground with a small trowel.

"What's going on?" Mr. L asked.

"We're playin' Sky-ball," said O'Chunks with a grunt as he and Dimentio hefted the goalpost standing. "It's finally ready fer play-testin'."

"No kidding?" Hands behind his back, Mr. L sauntered up to the erect post. "And you got Mimi and Dimentio to help you? What, did you blackmail 'em?"

"None of your business," said Mimi. "There are no incriminating photos of me even in existence!"

"What? Incriminating photos of you doing what?"

"Um, that's why I'm playing the game, duh," said Mimi, flipping her pigtails. "So you never find out."

"I need four," said O'Chunks.

"Sure, count me in," said Mr. L. "Sounds fun."

With the one goalpost fitted in the ground, O'Chunks went to put up the other. "You help with this one," said Dimentio. "I have splinters in my hands."

"Aren't you wearing gloves?"

"Oh, they got through the gloves a while ago."

The goalpost wasn't very heavy, but it was awkward and unwieldy. The goal was a good ten feet off the ground, and five feet wide. They both had to prop it upward and ease it into the hole Mimi dug, then bury the dirt around it. It wobbled and wibbled, but it stayed standing.

"Good." O'Chunks took out a piece of chalk and went around the yard, drawing a square that went from one goalpost to the other, and extended out so they were at the center of each end in a large field of play. When he came back, he was carrying a melon bug. "This little fella has graciously agreed ta be the ball for this game. Now, yeh can kick it, push it, whatever, so long as yeh don't hold it when yeh move aroun' the field. Also, there's no touchin' the other players, no floatin', no magic of any kind. What yeh gotta do is get this li'l guy through your goal without lettin' the others get 'im through theirs. Sound good?"

"When do I get the photos back?" Mimi asked.

"When one o' us gets to 10." He dropped the melon bug on the ground. "How do you wanna split up the teams?"

"I wanna be on your team," said Mimi.

"Sounds fine to me," said Mr. L. "Dimentio?"

Dimentio shrugged. "I don't really care," he said. "So long as nobody else hears that tape, I'm fine with whatever happens."

"Then... GO!"

Despite the fact that his friends had to be blackmailed into participating, the minions got into O'Chunks's game quickly. It was pretty hard to get the ball in the goal when it was over everyone's heads, so they had to get creative. It was also tricky to move the ball across the field when you had to stay put holding it- this forced them to rely greatly on their teammates and reading their cues. Dimentio played surprisingly fair, keeping his feet on the ground at all times and never once trying to teleport the ball with magic. Mr. L wondered what exactly was on that tape to make him so cooperative. Mimi, who was normally very uncoordinated in everything except her outfits, turned out to have a knack for the game. Naturally the team that had the game's inventor on it was expected to win the first ever match, but if Mr. L was counting correctly, by the time the score had hit 9-4, Mimi had scored twice as many goals as O'Chunks. Dimentio had only scored one, and that was quite by accident when he'd tried to cut off Mimi, slipped on the dirt and kicked the melon bug over his head backwards and through their goal.

After Mimi scored her sixth goal, energy was high. All four of them stood in the middle of the field, waiting for O'Chunks to toss the ball back into play. "You know," said Mr. L, "if we let them get one last goal, you can stop playing."

Dimentio flashed Mr. L a grin. "And let them beat us? I should say not!"

Mr. L really liked the 'new' Dimentio that had been around the castle lately. This new one was still condescendingly superior and notoriously tricky, but he participated more, smiled more, engaged more with the others. He was the kind of person you felt safe calling a friend. Not that Mr. L had yet done that out loud, but still.

"Go!" O'Chunks tossed the bug. Mimi grabbed it and passed it back to O'Chunks who was running to the side of the field.

"Got it!" Mr. L jumped in the air and intercepted, grabbing the bug in midair. He dropped it on the ground and kicked it like a soccer ball, running down the field.

"No you don't!" Mimi squealed. She caught up with him and kicked the ball out from in front of his feet.

Mr. L tripped over Mimi's foot and went sprawling. Both his legs were swept out from under him and he landed hard on his right knee.

"Time out!" O'Chunks made a T with his chunks.

Mimi had her hands at her mouth. "Ohmygosh!" she squeaked. "I didn't mean to do that! I was just trying to take the ball like in soccer! I'm super duper sorry, Mr. L! Are you okay?"

Mr. L was lying on his stomach. He pushed himself up and turned over into a sitting position. "I think so," he said. The fabric on his pants around his knees had been torn on the ground, and it was bleeding. Mr. L laughed. "Would you look at that," said Mr. L. "I don't think I've skinned my knees since I was a kid."

"Do you need me to go get help?"

"Nah. Just help me up. I'll go inside and wash this off."

Just then the door to the castle opened up. Count Bleck was standing in the doorway. "Minions," he called, "it's time for dinner!"

As the minions head into the house, all making sure Mr. L was able to keep up wit them, he couldn't help smiling. "Wow," he thought to himself. "Right here, right now, I've got the best family a guy could ask for. I must be the luckiest guy in any dimension.."