Dakota arrived at his job—the Nothing, Tosee, Here, & Block Business Firm. He glanced at the sign as he passed it and couldn't help a quick grin. Heh. Y'know, a business as boring as this one shouldn't have the right to be that conspicuous. I mean, be vaguely unusual, at least!

When he was close enough, he hopped off the skateboard he always used to get to… well, anywhere. It continued rolling, straight into a spot between two parked cars. Actually, straight into a floor-wet sign, taped with a paper, saying "RESERVE FOR DAKOTA!" The light impact knocked the sign down on top of the skateboard. (There was evidently a reason Fred got rid of it.)

But Dakota didn't see the visual gag at all. He was already at the steps. As he jogged up, two at a time, he saw a woman marching out to meet him. Her heavy makeup, hoop earrings, and highly disapproving look made Dakota recognize her at once. His expression, unlike hers, brightened quickly.

"Oh, hey, Savannah! How's it—" he began cheerfully, but she jerked him roughly by his jacket collar.

"Just shut up and follow me." She pulled him through the door and down the hallway, not pausing for a second. She muttered under her breath, "Honestly, I don't know why I keep covering for you."

Dakota pulled out of her grasp as they rounded a corner. "H-hey, what's going on?"

"Mr. Block is looking for you," she glared, turning to look at him, hands on hips. "This is the fourth time this week you've been late."

"I know, right?" he shrugged. She rolled her eyes and strode on. Dakota followed as she continued in an almost-whisper.

"I suppose this time, you're going to say a swordfish impaled that shabby skateboard of yours. In fresh water. Again."

Dakota snorted, remembering the events of that particular day. "Heh, no, no. Nothin' like that. It's actually pretty simple this time. See, I was at the doc's, and he had—"

"The DOC'S?"

The gruff, raspy, and very loud voice from just behind them made Dakota jump. Both of them whipped around in surprise. Standing there was their boss, a glare permanently plastered across his face. Savannah seemed to droop ever so slightly. But Dakota let out a grin. Ahh, classic Mr. Block. Waiting around to scare us like that. What a prankster. "Oh, hey! Man, you really got us that time, Mr. B—"

"Don't tell me," interrupted Block snappishly, ignoring his friendliness, "that you're still hanging around with…" Block's voice took on a new level of scorn… "Cavendish. That guy's never been anything but trouble."

Dakota said nothing. Not even the fact that, at least as far as rule-breaking went, Cavendish seemed like the least likely person to cause trouble. Sure, he was weird, but…

But his boss was already handing them each slips of paper. "You're both late," he growled. "Written warning for you, Savannah."

She took the slip, scowling. "You know, I don't think most bosses give out written warnings for every time an employee is late."

"Do I look like most bosses t' you?!" After his irritated shout, he held out a second. "And one for you, Dinglehopper."

"Dakota," the other corrected, genially accepting the slip. To be fair, this was the mildest earsplitter of the day.

"This makes the fourth in a row. You come to work late again, I'm gonna start docking your pay."

Dakota might have had a thought like "what pay?", if the particular phrasing hadn't reminded him of the swordfish incident again. That's why he was stifling a grin when Block spoke up again.

"If you think it's so funny, Doonberry, then let me just give you a little advice."

"Dakota."

"This so-called doctor, this," the scorn again, "Cavendish, is dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"YES, I said dangerous!"

He did a very poor job wiping off his grin. With the image in mind of the bespectacled, prim-and-proper, walking moustache of a scientist, it was impossible to take the warning seriously. "Uhhh, are you sure we're talking about the same Cavendish?"

"Oh, he might not look like a rule breaker. He might not talk like a rule breaker. But lemme tell you, he's a real nutcase. You hang around with him, you're gonna end up in the soup. You want that, Doofus?"

Again, he nearly thought something like "I'll believe it when I see it." But the phrasing was too funny to pass up. "Well, depends. I mean, what kind is it? Chicken noodle, potato—y'know, knowing him, it'd probably be alphabet, actually."

To his surprise, Block stepped up and grabbed his collar roughly (though the action didn't really faze Dakota—after all, it was only the second time it had happened to him so far today). "You got a real attitude problem, Dirkenbrand."

"Dakota..."

"I know your type," he continued, ignoring the correction. "You're a slacker! And ya know what else, you remind me of your dad back when he worked here—he was a slacker too."

The friendliness vanished. That was a line too far.

But, though Dakota opened his mouth to respond, he didn't get the chance to let out a word. Someone else spoke up first with sudden disinterest and arms crossed.

"Can I go now, Mr. Block?"

Block turned his glower toward Savannah (who had evidently gotten tired of standing back, silently watching the goings-on) for a moment. Then, he hmmphed and let go of Dakota's collar, scowl unchanged.

"Yeah, you can go, Savannah," he replied, still growling, "straight to work. Least I know you're not a slacker." As she nodded and turned to go, Block added, "Not like this one. He's too much like his old man."

Dakota's face was crossed with a glare for the first time that day. "You don't know my old man."

"And you don't know your history. That's one thing I know about, more than anybody around here. And lemme tell you, I know it for a fact: no Dakota has ever made any kind of a mark on this world."

Despite his bitter frown, he couldn't resist the potential for a wisecrack. "Heh. Yeah, except for, you know, South Dakota. Maybe North Dakota."

"Don't clown with me! You know what I mean!"

Boy, his boss was just full of opportunities today. "That you finally got my name right?"

"That no one," Block yelled suddenly, stepping closer, "in your entire FAMILY," his volume increased as the distance decreased, "has ever amounted to ANYTHING," and he got so close to his face their noses were practically touching, "in the HISTORY OF DANVILLE!"

For a second, Dakota only stared at him through golden lenses. Then, the humour that had died from his eyes was replaced by defiance as he drew himself up taller. "Well, history is gonna change."