I'm back! (Sort of.) Doo wee doo. Enjoy !

F Yeah. I'm graduating beaches.

P.S. I don't own Marvel nor any of its characters and ridiculously sassy, gorgeous, knee-wobbling, villains. But I do hope they give out one to me. I only own the plot and my foul-mouthed OC, Patricia (that does not reflect me in anyway).

(maybe a little bit.)

P.S. The events still don't follow the Thor: TDW setting. This is still the continuation of the world I've kept in mind since the beginning of its creation.

EMSGGBNG Entry #9 : Job Hunting for Dummies : Finding one for your god.

These creatures, were in fact (in their own perception), made to rule. With this thought in mind, always know that if you're going to train them to love their work (or even their co-workers), always feed them the idea that they're the boss (even though they obviously are not) by giving minimal amounts of praise to boost their will and interest for them to do the job they were entitled to do so in the first place.

Otherwise let them start their own magic show if they don't like too… that is if their powers hadn't been banned or taken away by some sort of All Father-like figure.

Good luck.

The week had seemed to be feeling and looking lighter as Loki was able to find himself some part-time job that didn't involve grabbing my attention to follow up and clean after all his beserk and selfish schemes. We apparently had a neighbor who owned a lot of cats and by which due to old age, would often times fail to do the tasks she needed to do to maintain her little furballs' dietary and hygienic needs. Loki, looking dashing as ever with his deceiving angelic looks, came walking past her lawn one day and heard a stray little kitten mewl just above a tree branch where he was currently under that time. And whether it had been due to his curiosity or some unspoken thing for these feline fiends, he ultimately gave himself over to the little kitten's powers of cuteness and helped it get down the ground, this mere act eventually earned him a multitude of gratitude from the old spinster (whom I later learned the name was Darby) and offered him a regular job-like position that would require Loki to attend to the needs of the old lady's darling kittens. I mean, don't get me wrong. I liked that Loki was somehow becoming productive (even if it was fuelled by his own greed to get a chance to pet those poor little kittens) but it worried me how he would be able to socialize with the other people while he was on his way to pick up the necessary supplies. The pay was good but would it be worth the trouble I would be in with him if he ever picks a fight with some stranger on the street? Even the mere thought itself earned a lengthy sigh from me.

On the other hand, I found myself contemplating whether I should be getting a part-time job or not. There was though, this pretty neat diner that took just a couple of minutes of drive to get to (that is if I had any car or transportation vehicle that involved wheels) down the street. If y'all wondering why I was heading towards this kind of train of thought, it was because I decided to finally tell my mom about the whole incident about Loki being an uninvited-soon-turned-resident-of-the-house. As much I was willing to keep up with the whole Female!Loki charade, it obviously wouldn't keep Loki's strength for a long period of time, moreover even a whole day itself. I still wondered though how I would be able to break it to my mother gently without earning a fit from her but the whole idea of job-hunting seemed like a more easier thought to handle and ponder on as of the moment. Besides, if I ever do get the chance of landing a decent job, I might be able to convince my mom to let Loki live with us… with the help an exceptionally good back story and alibi for Loki to support the whole clause of course. So here I was, sitting at our family's old and beaten wooden table, wasting my red sharpie's ink away by mindlessly making circles over the possible jobs I might have a chance of getting into. I'd also like to add in that it had been a long term dream of mine to rein-act those Hollywood portrayals of job hunting… you know, just for the heck of it. Insert hashtag, YOLO here please.

"Is this some sort of teenage phase or drug-induced act I should be aware off? Should I start calling the paramedics just in case you flip out any moment now?" Mom suspiciously asked the moment she came in the dining room. I mean, who else was there to blame her for thinking such? Having a daughter who had no interest in manual labor would drive any mother into suspicion after seeing her daughter with a truckload-full of newspapers strewn carelessly all over the table and floor.

"No and no." I glumly told her without switching my attention from the newspaper. "As much as you'd like to keep me out of your life with socially-accepted methods and reasons, I'm still perfectly healthy as of the moment and you're going to have to deal with it whether you like it or not, dear mother."I continued as I encircled a small add that caught my attention and read, "Think you've got what it takes to kick ass? Well come on with Humphrey's Kickboxing Studio! Be amazed as we have an opening for ass-kicking junior maintenance assistants!" to which the ad probably (and purposely) sugar-coated the real message that was actually landing a job of once in a lifetime by becoming an assistant for janitor over there. Well, whatever. If the place there paid good enough, then they might as well sign me up for it anyways. Who would say no to cash? I wouldn't.

"Shame. I'd probably have the chance to elope with your dad on a trip to Venice where we'd spend the entire week being lovey-dovey and all that." She responded with her back facing towards me. Judging from the sounds of someone chugging a cold drink down, mom was probably drinking the Gatorade bottle that I failed to throw away after Loki had spat its contents back to the bottle. Also given the fact, he'd called it, "a revolting liquid produce from Thor's bum" after tasting it all the way, I honestly didn't even know how to respond to that.

"Uhm." I started as I looked up and watched her chug the content all the way down her throat. Ick. Mom just had and indirect kiss with Loki. Double—no, a gazillion times and a hundred fold of special ick for her.

"What?" She immediately asked right after she'd set the empty bottle down the table. She then narrowed her thickly-lined eyes with at me while raising that perfectly sculpted brow of hers when I didn't give her any immediate response.

"Nothing. Carry on… Ick." I said as I looked away and started to go back to what I was doing earlier when as thought entered my mind. "Which reminds me… aunt Jen called."

Mom flinched in place upon hearing my 'blasted' aunt's name. My mother apparently had some unresolved issues with her sister with regards to affairs of stolen boyfriends of their past (and in no particular way was my father a part of that feud, thank goodness !).

"Yes ?"She said as leaned herself on the table, waiting for the continuation. "And what did she say?"

I relaxed myself, placed the red marker down carefully on the newspaper and watched my mother's 'I'm-probably-in-a-huge-pile-of-shit-again' look with clear amusement. "Mhhm… I don't exactly remember her exact words but I do remember a few phrases here and there that went like, 'Where the fudge is that goddarn mother of yours?!' and when I told her that you weren't home as of the moment, she practically wanted to bleed my ear out by screaming, 'Tell her to shove the goddarn papers in her fudging goddarn ass.' "

Mom gasped. "Did you just say 'ass' in front of your mother, young lady?"

If I could have facepalmed myself all the way to Bruce Lee's grave, I would done it already by now.

I sighed. "You're more worried with the fact that I've said the word, 'ass' in front of you when I've already and basically taken the liberty to apply censorship to my loving aunt's sweet words of love towards you? And by the way, what's with the deal with all those papers she was practically having a fit over, about ?" I asked with small interest. My family, as it would seem like, was definitely more colorful than an LGBT's flag of undivided pride.

"Nothing you should be concerned of. And what about you? What's with all these mess lying around anyway?" She shot back with that 'I'm-your-mother-and-I-invented-the-feisty-comebacks-even-before-Abraham-Lincoln-came-around' look of hers.

I gasped dramatically, just to add some flair. "How dare you call these—" I paused, motioning a hand all over the pile of newspapers. "—a mess? They're my ticket to my own version of an Irish pot of gold, for your information, okay?"

Mom sighed and rolled her eyes before fully turning her back on me. I actually still had the energy to argue with her, but as of this moment, I couldn't care any less about how to deal with her anymore. Let Aunt Jen and her sweet mouth do the dealing for me. Speaking of sweet mouths and deceitful personas, I was actually wondering how Loki was handling his fifth day of service to Darby. I'm surprised that 911 hasn't come yet to retrieve the body of an old woman. Or any news of the sort. It would be cool to actually see Loki shit bricks and get cuffed for real. But as of now, none of those would help with our situation at all. I had a lot on my plate. And if I could only chew a Norse God without choking on its big ego, trust me, I would have done it a long time ago. Hannibal Lecter, give me the strength to devour such asshole (not sure if this should be taken seriously but you know what I'm trying to imply right?).

"Hey ma." I started as I fiddled with the marker within my hands. Try not to annoy her T. Befriend the enemy. Befriend the enemy. "How would you react if I suddenly brought in a friend of mine to come live with us for awhile?" When she turned around to summon all hell's wrath on me, I immediately continued, "But of course! With the matter of expenses, he'll be able to cover it all. He only needs to have a roo—"

"He?" Mom gave a little shriek. I am totally not prepared to bring my mom to the hospital if she ever gets a heart attack on me right now. I'm seriously putting the blame on Loki's head if it indeed does ever happen. "Patricia Jamie Page! Are you telling me that you're going to bring in a man in here to live with us because you got knocked u—"

"Ew Mom! God no! Never in a million years!" I instantly cut in with her hysterics. I couldn't imagine having kids with that damned man. Ever. What if our baby would have a rhinoceros' face? Or a boar's for that matter? Shudder. That just wasn't going to happen in a million years. No scratch that, in a hundred lifetimes I get re-borned into.

Mom practically gave a sigh that would cover for her next ten years' worth of sighs. "So you're not pregnant then?" She asked, still doubtful but you could almost taste the worry and fear on her face. No wait. I didn't mean that I could actually taste it. It's just the way how I put things together. Don't even bother asking.

"If you were hoping for me to get my first break in Hollywood through an episode of 16 and pregnant. Well, I'd hate to shatter your dreams, because it ain't happening." I told her with the kind of tone, most witty daughters with shitty life experiences to make up for the young age would use to their mothers possessing the same kind of mentality as mine did.

"Okay fine. But who is this man you're going to shack in with us, hon?" She asked curiously. "I hope he isn't some sort of psycho killer you're trying to hide from the rest of the world." She continued.

I laughed. The kind of which you'd see in movies that meant 'hahaha-no-but-yeah-hahaha-no-one's-going-to-know-the-truth-hahaha-'. I was definitely going to be in huge pile of unspoken shit if I didn't tickle my mother's good vibes right.

"Yeah he totally isn't… hahaha…" Well, it was kind of true anyways, he hadn't really killed the entire population of the Earth right? Besides, he kind of did it in the other dimension anyways, so technically, he was clean as person possessing long beetle horns and homicidal scepter would be. I should totally look up law someday.

"Well, to cut the story short, he kind of had a father, who uhm… banished him away from his home. He won't tell me why but I guess it was all about some father-son issues. And he's adopted by the way. So I guess that sum's it all up."

Mom softened in an instant, upon hearing the word, adopted. Good. This meant I would be nailing this time real good. Go P-A-T-R-I-C-I-A! "Oh dear… poor boy." She clicked her tongue in sympathy.

"I bet he's having those issues an adopted child would… but do tell me dear, where did you meet this friend of yours?"She asked with curiosity as she seemed to buy the almost-truthful-and-short back story of Loki.

"Up in an old alley. He got beaten up real bad. I found him laying limp. Must have been robbed clean." I continued, biting my lip as I did. Loki's bruises and wounds did heal, but the deep cuts left faint purple-ish hues on his arms. Hopefully, they'll convince mom out.

"And how old is this…friend of yours?" She asked.

"Not sure. But I'll go ask him sometime. He's probably 30-ish but looks 28-ish." And 15 in maturity.

Mom widened her eyes at me for a moment and all I did was give my best poker face on. Poker nights with Jake's family meant me having the polished ability to put on a straight face without giving in.

"What's his name?"

Think. Think quick. "Thomas?" I said with a little chirped tone at the end.

"Thomas?"

"Hemsworth." I finished. Happy, hiddlesworth shippers out there? Seriously why couldn't I come up with something better?

Mom narrowed her eyes at me as she shifted her weight from her one leg to the other, examining me carefully. She was probably testing me. Test on dear motha.

"And this… Thomas, yes? Do you trust him?" She asked with that incredibly annoying interrogating-mother tone of hers. Hurry up and say yes already!

"Absolutely."

"Really?"

"Really." I finished.

Mom pursed her lips in a thought for awhile as I stopped fiddling with the marker. My anticipation for her to decline and say no, overpowered my drive to continue with the small act.

"I'll think about it."She finally says.

"Is that a yes?" I asked just to make sure.

"No, but it doesn't mean that I'm saying no too."

"So it's a yes then?"

"Only if I get to meet the man myself."

I burst out within my seat with joy and encased her in a tight hug. Yes! Another burden taken off from my shoulders! I can finally enjoy life without looking like a wacko! "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" I told her in a speed that could put Einstein's formula to shame.

When I decided to break the hug, mom then looked as if she was pondering on something. "Hate to break your little victory hon, but where in your deceased uncle Romney's name are we going to put in him in this house?" She paused only to take a breath. "I mean there's no way I'm going to allow you to shack up together with him in the same roo—"

"I got it covered."

"How?"

"He can stay in the unfinished room upstairs."

"But it doesn't even have paint on it yet! Besides, isn't that your future room?"

"It's okay, Thomas and I can work it out. He'll only be staying for a little while anyways." Hopefully.

"Fine, well, the least you can do is make it a little presentable. You can go ask help from your brother to help throw out the remnants of the metal pipes and—"

"Bro's not coming home anytime now. He's crashing at his friends'. Won't tell me where but he calls once in a while. Emphasis on the once please."

Mom pinched her the bridge of her nose. "That no good brother of yours…" She sighed in exasperation. I absolutely feel you mom. "Well then, I hope Thomas won't mind. It's your problem now. Just as long as he's clean. He's welcome to take refuge with us."

Wow. That was a little bit… easy. So easy that it was actually really starting to smell suspicious.

"What is it?" I asked her without any delay. Mom had this secret agendas and what nots for her to agree to situations like this without picking in for a heated argument or fight.

"What is what?" She asked back, dumbfounded.

"Oh you know what I'm talking about here." I told her as I rolled my eyes at her display of "innocence."

She smiled. Oh my mother is a hella more wicked the wicked witch of the west. Only without the unattractive green nose and skin. "Well… there's this community cookoff and I badly need an assistant with me."

I widened my eyes at her. The horror of hearing those annoying high pitched voices of mothers gossiping non-stop, proudly showing off their sweetened produce to the rest of the community would absolutely give me the chills for the next few weeks.

"Oh no. I already agreed to becoming a bridesmaid, haven't I?"

Mom pouted. "But it isn't due 'till the next few weeks! Plus! The cookoff will only last for a day!"

"Exactly my point! A day's worth of madness would make me crazy enough to last for up to a few more weeks!"

"Well now, you're being impossible." She says glumly.

"And you're being unreasonable." I huffed out. Crossing my arms over my chest as I leaned back, I started to continue, "Remember the time, I almost had my hair caught up in flames because a friend of yours left her grill on fire while I was standing with my back against it?"

"But it was an accident! Didn't she send over a dozen of cupcakes that you couldn't get over for the next few days after that?"

"Still!"

In a more calmer tone, mom said, "All I'm asking for is one day. Besides haven't I agreed to this friend of yours staying here, when he's practically a total stranger to the rest of our household?"

I thought about it for a moment. Well for one, she was indeed right. The least I could do for her is attend the whole goddamn thing as her assistant right? And perhaps, I could even drag Loki into the whole picture—

Wait.

That sounded like a pretty good idea, despite his lack of culinary skills.

"Okay fine. You win." I told her plainly. Maybe the whole thing ought to be fun.

Mom cocked a brow. "That's it?"

I shrugged. "Yeah fine. Whatever. Might as well sign me up for a one way ticket to hell while you're at it."

Mom beamed up as it was her turn to hug me back. "Oh dear! We're going to have so much fun!"

Oh joy.