I heard about the Hypermart exploding on the news the next morning, the building burning to the ground. As usual with these things, the reporters gave very few details, didn't say who did it.

No mention of the dead security guard, they just said "The police are investigating." I worried that someone would want me for questioning, but no cops showed up at my door. I awoke and continued about my day like nothing happened.

Didn't even get messages about it on Blipp. I guess that had to do with A. Blipp being headquartered in California, and B. Someone altering the address on the expired Blipp request, a feat I thought impossible without an official act of Congress.

"You generated a lot of buzz for Busan Bake," said the manager of Jiffy Squid Sushi. "The transgender thing is trendy now. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the `maid cafe' concept, but I'll pay you thirty five bucks to work our grand opening in uniform, plus you can keep the outfit for Blipps if you want."

The guy handed me a headband with cat ears and a tail piece. In black, not white this time. "If you wear this, I'll pay you extra."

And so I'm dolled up in a Kawaii French maid costume (with ears and tail) and running the cash register for two hours. You'd be surprised how many people enjoy a good seaweed wrap and egg roll at 7 AM.

Channel 5 dropped in and recorded footage of the grand opening.

"Feh, no big deal," I remarked to a coworker. "My parents only watch Channel 9."

I returned to my apartment to change clothes.

King's Ransom Apartments. One bedroom, central air, dishwasher, walk-in closets. Ultra-modern water conserving push button toilet, low flow shower head. The leasing office had a heated pool, a place to run your dogs around, `free' Starbucks coffee. I had a fireplace, but Management said not to use it because it could set the building on fire.

The moment I stepped through the door, I got another Blipp request. They wanted the maid outfit. Well, I was just on Channel 5...

68 year old Jamaican woman with a stooped posture. Wanted me to take her grocery shopping...and to the store to buy beer and cigarettes. She made me work for that $20.

"Why you wearing shit like that?" she had the gall to ask me as I'm following her up the canned vegetable aisle. "You like men or something?"

"Just desperate for money. It's trendy."

"You got any honies?"

"N-no, not yet."

"You ain't gonna find any dressed like that! Ladies will think something's wrong with you!" And she's the one who made the request in the first place!

"Thanks...I'll...keep that in mind."

The woman cackled at me.

She even had me assemble a complicated dresser from Svedenborg Furniture outlet.

When I returned to my apartment once more, I found the entire building on fire, with clusters of those fiberglass bunnies roving around the parking lot.

Demolished cars, blackened skeletons of my neighbors crumpled on the parking lot. Overturned baby stroller.

I shifted into reverse and drove out of there so fast that I banged my head on the ceiling going over a speed bump.

I just kept driving. My only aim: Getting as far as possible from the Fiberglass Bunnies of Death. Oh, and I avoided the Plaza, of course.

Jacob Goose Park. Not exactly...far from the Plaza, but peaceful, with a large lake at times (ironically) graced with the aforementioned geese (they named the park after a newspaper mogul) but more often ducks. Lots of trees and a flower garden, generous quantities of protective cover (I hoped) from the bunnies with the laser eyes.

I parked at the far end, near the playgrounds, frowning at my phone.

Generally bad form to send private messages to Blippers about non-business related issues, but this was pretty damn important.

`If you're not dead, I need your help.' I sent `Doctor' a full description of the fiberglass bunny attack. `Please reply back immediately if you're not dead.'

I sighed. Ninety percent of my possessions, now more than likely a pile of blackened ash. The only thing left: The stuff in my car.

A bunch of my goofy singing telegram Blipp costumes, like my trademark chicken suit, a clown, Kimikat and so forth.

My guitar.

All those cases of Busan Bake products.

Had some other stuff for roadside emergencies, like tools and blankets, plus a ball bat, baseball and glove.

Nothing useful like a decent pair of clothes.

I dug through my costumes, pondering which embarrassing outfit would be less humiliating than Jiffy Squid Maid...was leaning toward Singing Cowboy...

My phone rang. Although I'd hoped for `Doc' to somehow know my number and call me...nope.

"Hi Dad."

"Hey, son. I saw you on TV, and I just wanted to say I'm proud of you. I know your lifestyle is your choice, so if this is what you want to do with your life, I still support you, and I—"

"Dad," I interrupted. "Can the `Progressive Liberal Dad' act. I only do that stuff for money. I'm straight, I just haven't found the right woman yet."

"Well you're not going to find one dressed like that! The ladies are going to think something's wrong with you!"

I smacked my face. "Thanks for checking up on me, Dad."`

A moment after I hung up, my app trumpeted. I quickly clicked the `push' notification.

Instead of a message, I got a Blipp from `The Doctor.'

Blipp 15988121

PAID: $50

Time: Now

Site: Jacob Goose Park, 4111 Weird Parkway, by the cannons

Duration: N/A

Preferred Costume: One Blipp Prev

Blipp Description: Cleaning

XXX situation? No

Blipperid: Doctor8816

"Seriously?"

On Blipp, `One Blipp Prev' meant "Whatever you wore on the last job you did today," as in "Come as you are," not "The same as last time." A lot of Blippers didn't know the difference.

Well, she was going to get what she got. I had a bone to pick with her...provided this wasn't a deadly trap created by the fiberglass bunnies - It wouldn't surprise me if they could use phones.

So much for `changing into something more decent.' Guess it didn't matter - I'd already gone to a grocery store in drag, so a walk through a park was nothing. You had to have a thick skin to do Blipp jobs.

Thoroughly familiar with the park, I crossed the well manicured, grassy fields. A bright, sunny day, but with a cold wind that pounded through my dress in embarrassing ways. Kept having to hold the skirts down as I passed the tennis court and some frisbee golfers with their dog. The nylons didn't help the cold at all. Got heckled along the way, but you gotta expect that in my line of work.

I descended a hill, taking a walking trail through a copse of cedar trees. Chirping birds, squirrels scritching up and down branches as they chittered to each other. From this vantage point you couldn't tell that we had a bunch of animated fiberglass rabbits terrorizing neighborhoods and literally toasting their inhabitants.

The brass plated Parrott guns stood in a semicircle atop the bill, facing a row of brass displays about the historic battles of Westport.

The blue phone booth thing...definitely not part of the display.

As I scratched my head and stared at it, a voice called, "Oi! Where's the cat costume?"

"You picked `One Blipp Previous.' Plus it's burned."

"Oh. Still cute...and appropriate. I got a little job for you."

I scanned my surroundings in puzzlement. "What, you want me to clean the park? I mean, I see a soda can stuffed into one of those cannons, but they hire guys from The City to do that." Noting her annoyed expression, I added, "Why are we meeting at the park, then? Is it that dangerous to clean your place?...While we're on the subject, you know who might be able to help us with the fiberglass bunny problem?"

"I might have an idea." With a `What an idiot' look on her face, she pointed to the phone booth. "Incidentally, that is what I want you to clean."

I stared at the thing, hands on my hips (Okay, so maybe getting too comfortable in costume). "It doesn't look dirty."

With a sigh of annoyance, she marched up beside me and waved her copper...device.

The doors on the phone booth swung inward, revealing...a huge room.

I leaned through the doorway, gawking at the interior with speechless astonishment.

It reminded me of Superman's Fortress of Solitude, immense crystalline things curling like an immense claw around a machine that appeared to be taken out of a Myst video game. Jules Verne would be proud of the invention.

I peered around the corner of the phone booth, stuck my head in, looked around the corner again.

`Doc' just rolled her eyes and checked her watch. "Yes, I know. It's larger on the inside. Sometime today?"

"Wow! Just like that closet in those Narnia books!"

She scoffed. "Considering your manner of...(ahem) dress, ironic that you didn't say `wardrobe.'"

"Who has a wardrobe these days? Anyway..." I pointed through the door. "What in the royal hell?"

The woman actually looked bored. "Pocket dimension. A little more complicated than that, but we don't have time. It's called a TARDIS, Time and Relative Dimensions in Space."

"And...how is it that you attached this...pocket dimension to this box?"

"Don't have time to fully explain. Now, if you don't mind, would you please perform the job I hired you for?"

I swallowed. "Yes ma'am."

My Mary Janes made a hollow clomping sound as I entered, as if I walked on a theater set, and although I hadn't heard anything while standing outside, this...pocket dimension...had an ambient mechanical hum in the background.

"Magical clown car!" I muttered to myself.

The woman rushed up to the Jules Verne-esque machine, activated a little computer monitor, toggling menus until she had a series of maps pulled up. Not sure what they showed her, but they had blinking dots and symbols all over the place.

Several questions we didn't have time for sprang to mind: What was she a doctor of? What was her real name? How did the phone booth get into the park? An explanation about the pocket dimension.

"They did a news story on that Hypermart we were in. What happened over there? Did you blow the place up?"

`Doc' didn't take her eyes off the screen. She kept pushing buttons. "I might have."

"What were those things that attacked us? Are they dead?"

She shook her head. "They're called Autons. Synthetic lifeforms. Usually take the form of department store mannequins. Not sure why they changed. Nasty piece of work. Be glad you got out of there when you did."

More questions we didn't have time for: How did she know so much about these Auton things? Where did they come from? How long has she been fighting them? "They're currently running around my apartment complex killing people. I'm thinking it might have something to do with you."

"Well, I did just destroy their manufacturing system. Not sure how they located you..." The woman gasped. "Your phone! Of course! You used it nonstop ever since you arrived at the building! Once they locked on your signal, they could trace it all the way back to where you lived!"

"I do allow a few apps to know my location," I admitted. "Plus my car has a Safe Driving beacon...I actually lost a few points recently..."

Doc visibly paled. "Let me see that phone."

I thought she intended to, I dunno, just go into my settings or something, so I unlocked it for her and handed it over.

Dropping my phone on the floor, she pulled out her copper gadget and pushed a button.

Sparks shot out. Black smoke puffed out from the corners of the screen. The entire back end of the case exploded.

"Hey! That was a brand new phone!"

"You can buy another one once we solve our Auton problem...Speaking of which..." She stepped over to another monitor, toggling views from live security feeds, apparently from areas around the phone booth. "People are dying, so I'm going to make this short and sweet. We're going to renegotiate the terms of our current business deal..."

Instinctively my face flushed hot with anger. From time to time, Blippers would attempt to negotiate `side deals,' generally bad ones where they expect a lot of work for next to nothing, sometimes with threats of ruining your reputation, on the basis of being some big shot `social media influencer.'

I opened my mouth to protest, but then, considering the circumstances, I closed it again.

The woman opened a wall panel, digging through piles of electronic equipment inside a compartment as she spoke. "...First of all, no more business with that silly app. You're working for me now."

I've heard people give the suggestion before. I clenched my fists, my face getting hotter. "Really bad choice of words there, but since we're in a crisis situation, and you presumably know how to deal with those...Auton things, I'll make an exception."

She stepped back from the compartment, crossing her arms. "Chickendude, let's be honest with each other: You're homeless. You have some very nasty creatures chasing after you, and how much does that app pay you every week? One hundred quid? I mean, dollars? I'm about to offer you free room and board, in exchange for your services, so I'd be very careful about what you say next."

I swallowed hard, adjusting my frilly choker. "Look, uh, it's true I kinda need money and a place to stay, but... I've had a lot of bad job offers on Blipp."

"I just saved your life, and you think I'm going to cheat you into working for me for free, is that it?"

I shrugged.

"I'll pay you a fair wage for your labor. And give you a place to stay. Plus I'm going to stop the Autons."

"I...I don't know..."

"Are you saying you want to go back to your apartment right now?"

"Well, no..."

"Even if you're working for free, I'm offering you a safe place to hang out until the fiberglass rabbits are gone."

So...possible money and somewhere to hide...not sure I ever wanted to go back to the apartment, even after all this. "I...guess that's something..."

She opened a wall panel, bringing out a cannon-like gauntlet, which she immediately set about tinkering with, adjusting parts, using her copper tool to attach a chrome orb to the device, soldered wires and a parabolic reflector to it.

"Excuse me, what are you doing?"

"Don't mind me, just trying to invent something to stop the fiberglass bunnies." Doc plugged a rechargeable battery into the handle. "How much were you paying for rent?"

I told her. She whistled. "And you're paying for this with Blipp money."

"And clinical research studies. Currently in-between jobs right now, trying to find something better."

"Hmmm."

So...probably got the raw deal in this exchange. I mean, rent, heat, water, sewer, trash, plus food, combined with what we estimated to be my current income from studies and Blipp...She'd pay enough for me to be able to eat out at a restaurant a couple times a week, and buy gas...But again, this was too weird to pass up. "What...about my car? Where do you expect me to park it? They'll tow me if I leave it here overnight, and the apartment...hell no."

She opened a panel near the floor, stuffing seemingly random objects into her coat pockets. "Don't you have familyin town?Someone who will allow you to park at their house?"

I grimaced at the thought. "...Fine. I suppose you have me at a disadvantage. I don't even have regular clothes."

The thought had crossed my mind that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to spend the night with a random Blipper, but she had saved my life earlier, plus she was cute, and it was better than staying in a burned out building.

"Since that's out of the way..." Doc handed me a device that looked like something out of Star Trek. A type of computer where you pulled the top and bottom halves apart, and a digital readout appeared on a transparent screen in the middle. "I've prepared a list of all the tasks I'd like for you to complete while I'm out saving the world. If you're unfamiliar with any of the terminology, there's a glossary. It also has a map, in case you get lost."

I scrolled down the list, incredulity growing the further along I read:

1. Do not touch the console!

2. Do the dishes.

3. Put cardboard in the recycler.

4. Inventory contents of all roundels (wall panels) in the main room (semi-low priority).

5. Clean kitchen counters.

6. Prepare enchiladas. Recipe book on counter.

7. Check all areas for trash and scattered items.

8. Pick up things from the floor.

9. Replace light bulbs.

10. Assemble new shoe rack and organize my shoes.

11. Clean mirrors.

12. Set out roach and mouse traps.

13. Do laundry. Wash whites separately. Use recommended bleach.

14. Alphabetize books in library (low priority).

15. Auger out toilets 3 and 5.

16. Unstop sink in bathroom 3

17. Vacuum all carpets in regions 15-50.

18. Change the covers on my bed. Leave the sonic screwdriver under the pillow. Note: Must be tucked precisely as I had it. Refer to Room 8 if you're unsure.

19. Dust rooms 1-20.

20. Organize rooms 13-20.

21. Change shower curtains in bathrooms 2 and 4. Curtains are on the toilet tanks.

22. Empty trash bags into Mr. Fusion machine.

23. Drain and clean out library swimming pool.

24. Defrost and clean out refrigerator. Throw away spoiled food (note: leave egg, glowing creature and test tubes alone).

"Looks...like I...got my work cut out for me...what happens if I can't get it all done?"

"I fire you and kick you out on the street." Doc winked at me. "Just kidding. I'll just tell you to do it tomorrow. But please try to get as much done as you can today...Oh, and I'm going to need your car." When I balked, she added, "For official fiberglass bunny neutralizing purposes, I assure you."

I tossed her my keys, and she disappeared for two hours.

Okay, sure, I probably could have gone with her, but you already know what she felt about that. Plus, she literally hired me to be her maid.

So...I set about my chores.

It only looked like the Fortress of Solitude was one room. Off to the sides, I found automatic sliding doors leading into what I can only describe as a labyrinth. It reminded me somewhat of a hospital. Fitting for a `doctor.'

I did, in fact, find a swimming pool and a library and a bowling alley. When I found the video arcade and the den with the X-Box, I decided maybe I didn't care how much she paid me.

Of course, didn't want to lose the sweet gig by playing games right away. I had chores.

Afew problems sprang to mind as I worked: Would the landlord, or their conglomerate (if the apartment staff was dead) keep charging rent when I'm not there?...The internet company definitely would...And my phone...Not sure about water, electricity and gas. I'd have to call and cancel sometime or someone would charge me off and ruin my credit. Especially the Internet company...If those Auton things ever got stopped, that is.

I'd just finished scrubbing out three bath tubs, and started on the dusting detail, when Doc made a reappearance. With scorched, smoking clothing, she marched into the library and tossed me my car keys. "I'll give you the good news first: You'll no longer have to worry about parking again."