Hank opened his front door to see Dale: smoking, his hands and his pockets and his right leg in front of his left.
"Dale," Hank nodded. "Want do you want? Because I need to use my ladder today. All of them."
"And I'll bring your saw back next time, I plomise," Dale whined.
"Plomise?"
"Uh... So anyway, I suspect Peggy of killing Thatherton."
Inside Hank was a horrible storm of worry. Dale was getting too close.
But on the outside Hank was composed.
"Dale, you giblet-head!" Hank snapped. "How dare you call my wife a murderer."
Dale backed away. "Sorry, Hank-"
"This...is more stupid than the time you bought alien urine."
"Well-"
"More stupid than Joseph being an alien, or you being an Injun."
"Hey, that was-"
"Dale, get off my property. I'll see you in the alley after work."
Dale stomped a foot on Hanks lawn and said, "Take that as a warning. Tell Peggy that if she doesn't stop killing, I'll do it again."
Hank chased Dale off his property. Dale ran up a fence and got his belt stuck against a spike.
Hank sat at his desk at work, writing in his Death Note.
I hate taking breaks, Hank thought. But I have to make sacrifices to make a better, efficient, clean-burning world.
Strickland opened the door to Hanks office and saw him cackling.
"Uh, what's so funny, Ol' Top?" Strickland asked nervously.
Hank stopped cackling, cleared his throat and said, "Uh, nothing, sir. Just... laughing at a joke the wife told me."
"Well, can I hear it?"
"...No."
"Alright then."
Hank cleared his throat and started to think: if Dale could get so close to the truth, what's stopping real authorities from doing so?
Killing people magically with a little book? Ha! Like the authorities would believe that!
But he needed to draw suspicion away from him. And Strickland Propane...
Strickland slinked out and slammed the door shut.
"What's wrong, honey?" Joe Jack asked.
"Hank's still acting weird," Strickland whispered. "To be honest, he's starting to freak me out."
"Yeah," Enrique agreed. "He almost never took breaks. He's starting to act..."
"Like a regular person?" Joe Jack chuckled. "Honey, Hank's finally learning not to be so uptight!"
"He should loosen up," Strickland agreed. "If I offered him two weeks off with a big raise, he'd refuse!"
"Oh, boy!" Joe Jack said, grabbing at his chest.
He started to sweat. He stumbled out of his chair and threw up on the floor before collapsing.
"Huh," Strickland said. "Not at all like that Sanford fellow."
Hank ran out of his office and said, "What's wrong? I head a noise."
"Hank, call an ambulance for Joe Jack!"
"Oh, no!"
"How was work, sug?" Nancy asked her husband as he came through the door. "You're home early."
"I didn't go to work."
"And why not, sug? Government spying on you again?"
"Maybe. But I had to pick some people up at the airport. By the way, they're staying over."
Nancy, now annoyed, said, "And you didn't ask me before this?"
"I knew that if I asked you, you would have said no!"
"Well, who are they, huh? Family?"
"Nope!"
Dale ran out the door. He returned later with two people.
"This is Watari," Dale said, motioning to the older man with the mustache. "He's a detective."
"Actually," Watari began.
"And this is his loyal servant and sidekick, Ryuzaki."
Dale motioned to the young man with dark hair, no shoes or socks, with dark rings under his eyes.
"Uh, Ryuzaki?" Nancy asked. "Did you happen to forget your shoes?"
Ryuzaki started to speak in Japanese.
"I can't understand any of his gobbledygook," Dale told his wife.
"He said that he doesn't own a pair of shoes," Watari translated. "He also says you're a beautiful woman."
"Why thank you, Ryuzaki, Watari! Dale, can I speak with you in the bathroom?"
Before Dale could say anything, Nancy dragged him away.
"Are you bringing homeless people here again?" Nancy snapped. "Don't you remember what happened the last two times?"
"Hey, the first one really was an alien, I know it!" Dale said indignantly. "And they're really famous detectives from Japan. I even did the research."
Nancy sighed and rubbed her hands on her forehead.
"What was that all about?" Watari asked his ally.
"I'm just having fun," Ryuzaki said with a sneer.
"This is some sort of test, isn't it?"
"I want to see what Mr. Gribble is capable of. He may be the most brilliant detective, and my future replacement."
"And what if he's just some delusional buffoon?"
"We're already getting information from him, so we just play along until we get what we want."
"Indeed."
"It wasn't at all like the T.V. showed it!" Strickland said to his employees.
Paramedics pronounced Joe Jack dead on the scene. The paramedics left with his body not five minutes ago.
"Television is rarely accurate," Hank said with a sigh. "Hey, did anybody watch the game last night?"
"There was no game on last night," Enrique told him.
"I was, uh...talking about baseball?"
Everyone looked at him.
"So anyway," Strickland said. "It's kind of weird that Joe Jack had a heart-"
"It was a real good game."
"Not now, Ol' Top! It's just kind of weird that Joe Jack died the same way as Thatherton and that Laramie & Daughters guy died."
"But Joe Jack wasn't exactly in the best of shape."
"Good point..."
"Hey, isn't it funny that there are so many people dying of heart attacks?" Enrique said. "Besides Hank's dad and neighbor-"
"My dad was an old man!" Hank snapped. "And Khan must have been overworked. He was always yellin' and screamin' at everyone."
"Most of these people work in propane."
"Does that mean propane kills people?" Donna asked. "Propane gives people heart attacks?"
Employees started to murmur amongst each other until Strickland said, "Naw, that's just rubbish."
"Mr. Strickland's right," Hank said reasonably. "It's probably just a big coincidence and we should leave it at that. A coincidence."
"Maybe not," Roger said. "My mom said that this...big black monster-"
"Your dad," Enrique laughed.
"Hey, that's racist!"
Everyone admonished Enrique, who apologized and sunk in his seat.
Roger went on, "...This big black monster visited her and offered her the power to kill people."
"Well, did she take the offer?" Strickland asked.
"No, of course not! Only a monster would kill people."
Hank gulped nervously.
"Of course, she was probably making it up. Damn story used to scare me when I was a kid."
Big black monster, Hank thought to himself. Got dang.
