Monday rolled around at the SSHQ. Phyllis was typing up something on her typewriter when her phone rang.

"Secret Security Headquarters," she said.

"Hi, Phyl, it's me," her friend, Daisy, said. "I know you told me not to call you at work, but I've got to tell you something! Something huge! Can you meet me at Cafe Francois for lunch today?"

"Yeah, sure," Phyllis said. "But what's going on, Daisy?"

"I can't tell you now. I'll tell you at noon."

"All right."

Phyllis hung up the phone and went back to her typing. She hated it when Daisy did things like this. She always had to make a big production out of everything. Noon came along, and Phyllis walked out of the office and down two blocks to Cafe Francois, a little sidewalk cafe where most of Megatropolis's self-proclaimed "hipsters" hung out. Daisy was sitting at a table waiting for her, fidgeting. It appeared she was about to take off any minute.

"Okay, Daisy," Phyllis said, sitting down, and putting down her purse. "What's this all about? And if you don't tell me right now, I'll slug you."

"No you won't!" Daisy shouted, giving Phyllis a gentle shove in the shoulder.

"I might if you don't tell me!" Phyllis shouted. "You're keeping me in suspense! What's going on? Tell me already!"

"Okay," Daisy said, and she tried to compose herself. "I was at the office working, as usual, when suddenly, this delivery guy comes in with this huge bouquet of red roses, and they're for me, and they're from Rick."

Phyllis nodded. Daisy's boyfriend, Rick, was always doing stuff like that. He was a hopeless romantic.

"Anyway, there was a white rose in with all the red roses," Daisy said. "I noticed the white rose looked like it wasn't a real rose, so I pulled it out, and it was plastic. You know what was attached to it?"

"What?" Phyllis asked.

"This!" Daisy shouted excitedly, holding up her hand. On her finger was a diamond ring.

"Rick proposed?" Phyllis asked.

"Yes!" Daisy squealed. "I'm getting married!"

Both Phyllis and Daisy began squealing excitedly then, as well as practically jumping up and down. Of course, they were getting weird looks from everyone at the cafe, as well as various passerby, wondering what in the heck these two weird blond chicks were doing.

"Hey!" a familiar voice shouted. "Why are you two squealing like a couple of little piggies playing in the dirt?"

Phyllis and Daisy stopped squealing and jumping, and turned around. Standing by the cafe railing were the Impossibles, staring at the two girls like they were completely off their rockers. It was Fluey who had made the crack about the piggies (who else?)

"Oh, hi guys," Phyllis said.

"Hi," Coiley said. "So what's all the excitement about?"

"I'm getting married!" Daisy shouted. Then she let out a shriek of excitement.

"Hey, Daisy, if you lost your voice, you'll find it in my ear!" Fluey shouted, cleaning his ear out with his index finger.

"Congratulations," Multi said. "But I think you two might want to hold the excitement down a little. People are starting to stare at you."

"Yeah," Phyllis said, clearing her throat. "Thanks."

"See you around," Coiley said, and the boys left.

"Three, two, one . . . . ." Fluey said, counting down something. Coiley and Multi stared at him, until they heard Phyllis and Daisy began squealing over the news of Daisy's engagement all over again.

After the excitement died down, Phyllis returned to the office, and got back to work. As she was working, Fluey came into the office, and flopped down on the couch.

"Hey, sis," he said.

"Hi," Phyllis said, not bothering to look up from her typewriter.

"I'm kind of surprised at your reaction to Daisy's engagement."

"Well, she is my best friend. Why wouldn't I be excited for her?"

"Yeah, but it just means that now you're the only one of your friends who's still unattached. Are you telling me that doesn't bug you?"

"Not anymore. I've decided to accept the fact that I'm going to be single for the rest of my life."

"And you're okay with that?"

"I am. But if you keep opening your big fat mouth over the subject, you're not going to be okay with it!"

"Gotcha."

And with that, Fluey left the office. He, Multi, and Coiley had some rehearsing to do for a gig, anyway.

That Saturday, Phyllis was at the supermarket of the local Park 'n Shop complex. She finished loading her groceries into the trunk of her pink convertible, climbed into the driver's seat, and began backing out of her parking space. However, she failed to notice the car in the parking space across from hers was backing up as well, and the driver of that car failed to notice Phyllis, and they both ended up colliding with each other.

WHAM!

Phyllis let out a scream once she hit, but thankfully, she wasn't hurt. She looked in her rear view mirror to see what she hit. It was a bright red Ferrari. The driver was coming out of the car as she looked. It was a handsome young man with dark brown hair wearing a light blue polo shirt, khakis, and brown Italian loafers. He sported a pair of designer sunglasses, and was talking on a cell phone. He kind of looked like a human Ken doll.

"Oh great," Phyllis groaned, as she opened her glove compartment in order to get her insurance information. "I backed into a rich snob's car. And if he's like most of the stuck up rich people I've met, he'll likely blame me for baking into him because I'm one of those 'crazy women drivers.' What a way to start a weekend."

Phyllis took a moment to get a hold of herself. Once she regained her composure, she came out of the car, and walked over to the rear of it, to inspect the damage to not only her car, but the Ferrari. The guy with the cell phone told whoever he was talking to he had to go, hung up, and put his phone in his pocket.

"Uhh, hi," the guy said, nervously. "Are you okay? Seriously, I am so sorry about this! Guess that'll teach me to talk on the phone while driving, huh?"

"And that'll teach me to watch where I'm going," Phyllis said. "Listen, sorry about your car."

"Oh hey, no problem," the guy said, writing something down on a piece of paper. Once he was done, he handed it to Phyllis. "My insurance will cover it. But in any case, here's my name, my number, and my insurance information in case you need it."

"Thanks," Phyllis said, handing him a piece of paper with her information on it. "Here's my info, in case you need it. And don't worry about paying for the damage to my car. I have a friend who's a mechanic and he usually fixes my car for nothing."

"Okay," the guy said. "I will say this. This is an interesting way to meet somebody, isn't it?"

The guy then got into his Ferrari and drove off. Phyllis then got into her car, and drove off herself. The minute she got home, she called the SSHQ chief mechanic, Mike Rogers at his house (he never worked on the weekends).

"Hi Mike," she said. "I need a favor. I backed into somebody's car at the Park 'n Shop . . . . ."

"And you need me to look at it, right?" Mike asked.

"It's nothing too huge, Mike. I'm sure you could take that sledgehammer of yours and whack the dents right out of it. I mean, it's just cosmetic damage."

"All right. Bring it down to the hangar on Monday and I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Mike, you're the best."

"Yeah I am, aren't I?"

Phyllis laughed and hung up the phone.

Monday rolled around. Mike was hammering out the dents in Phyllis's car, and the Impossibles were watching. They sometimes hung out in the garage when they weren't on duty.

"I've got to teach you guys mechanics," Mike said as he swung his sledgehammer.

"Why's that?" Coiley asked.

"So you can hammer out your own dents," Mike said. "And reconstruct your own car whenever you get it into a wreck!"

The Impossibles had been known around the agency for having their mode of transportation in the hangar more times than any other agent. And Mike always complained about having the fix it.

"But just out of curiosity, Mike," Fluey said. "Why are you fixing Phyllis's car, and complaining about ours?"

"Wise guy," Mike muttered. "I feel sorry for the poor schlub that marries Phyllis. They'd be stuck with you for a brother-in-law."

"Ho, ho," Fluey said, sarcastically.

Mike said nothing, and continued to hammer out the dents.

Later that evening, Fluey was lounging around at home, watching an intense baseball game the TV (it was the Megatropolis Marauders versus the Peoria Pachyderms, the top of the ninth, and a tie score), when the phone suddenly rang. He got up, and grabbed it.

"Hello?" he said. "Yeah, just a sec. Hey Phyllis! Phone!"

"Coming!" Phyllis shouted.

"Who is this, anyway?" Fluey said, going back to the phone for a minute. By that time, Phyllis came into the room.

"Who is it?" she asked, as Fluey handed her the phone.

"Somebody named Raphael Caprezio," Fluey said. "Who is he, anyway?"

"Oh," Phyllis said, taking the phone. "He's the guy I backed my car into Saturday."

"Oh," Fluey said, and started to leave the room, but hung back a little to catch the conversation. Or at least some of it.

"This Friday at seven?" he heard Phyllis ask. "That's fine. Okay, I'll see you then."

And with that, Phyllis hung up. Fluey leaned against the doorway, and stared at his sister.

"What's going on Friday at seven?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, knowingly. "Gotta date?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Phyllis said.

"You know how it's gonna end up," Fluey went on. "You'll date for awhile, Big D will want you to bring him here so he can meet him, he'll grill him, your new boyfriend will get intimidated, and then he's history."

"So what if it does happen?" Phyllis asked, shrugging. "I'm not expecting anything any different from all the other times I've gone out on a date. Besides, sooner or later, one guy I go out with is bound to impress the chief one of these days. You know the old saying, Fluey. First time for everything."

Fluey merely shrugged and went back to the den to catch the end of the ball game.