It was a quiet morning at the intersection of Maple Street and Third Avenue—at least, as quiet as it could be in Danville, where unpredictable chaos was practically part of the local weather report. The street was mostly empty, with only a few early commuters and a single pigeon pecking at the sidewalk.

Melissa Chase and Zack Underwood stood at the crosswalk, waiting for their best friend Milo Murphy to arrive. Well, Melissa was waiting. Zack was mostly trying to survive the wait.

"You know," Melissa said, turning toward Zack with a playful smile, "I read this study that says couples who mimic each other's mannerisms tend to have the strongest emotional connection."

Zack raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

Melissa nodded. "Yeah, like if one person tilts their head while talking, the other unconsciously does the same."

Zack smirked, tilting his head dramatically to the side. "Like this?"

Melissa giggled and matched his tilt. "Exactly!"

Eliot, the crossing guard, stood a few feet away, arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin line. He exhaled loudly. "Do you two have to do this here?"

Melissa blinked at him. "Do what?"

Eliot motioned vaguely between them. "This… thing. The cutesy, lovestruck, nauseating couple thing. Some of us have to work here, you know."

Zack grinned. "Oh, come on, Eliot. It's harmless."

Eliot grumbled, adjusting his sunglasses. "It's not harmless when I have to stand here and listen to it all morning. You two are worse than traffic noise."

Melissa folded her arms. "Well, love is a beautiful thing, Eliot."

"Love is also loud," Eliot muttered. "And incredibly inconvenient."

Zack shrugged, draping an arm over Melissa's shoulder. "Hey, at least we're keeping you entertained while you wait."

"I'm not here for entertainment," Eliot said flatly. "I'm here to confront Milo Murphy."

That got their attention. Melissa and Zack exchanged a quick glance before Zack asked, "Uh… about what, exactly?"

Eliot's face hardened. "Do you two know how many times I've had to rebuild this crosswalk because of that kid?" He jabbed a finger at the pavement. "This spot, right here, is basically ground zero for every weird, unexplainable catastrophe that happens in this town."

Melissa tapped her chin. "Statistically speaking, Milo does have a higher-than-average probability of causing—"

"—a completely random disaster, even if he's just standing still," Zack finished. "Yeah, we know."

Eliot threw up his hands. "And yet, you both insist on meeting him here every day! Don't you ever think about waiting somewhere safer?"

Melissa shrugged. "It's just part of being Milo's friend."

"Besides," Zack added, "nowhere's really safe when you're friends with Milo. Might as well embrace it."

Eliot groaned and rubbed his temples. "All I want is one day—just one—where I don't have to deal with a runaway cement truck, a collapsing stoplight, or an entire marching band falling into a sewer hole. Is that too much to ask?"

Before Melissa or Zack could respond, the distant rumbling of something large and unstable echoed down the street. They turned toward the source just in time to see Milo Murphy jogging toward them, waving enthusiastically.

"Hey, guys!" Milo called. "Sorry I'm late! There was a bit of a situation with a squirrel and a tuba, and—"

The moment he stepped onto the sidewalk, the ground beneath Eliot shook. The crossing guard barely had time to react before:

—A street sign came loose from its post and wobbled dangerously.

—A rogue bicycle, seemingly without a rider, zoomed past, nearly clipping Eliot's knee.

—A gust of wind blew a stray newspaper directly into Eliot's face.

Milo blinked at the series of mishaps. "Huh. That was close."

Eliot ripped the newspaper from his face and pointed an accusatory finger at Milo. "Murphy! This—this is exactly what I was talking about!"

Milo tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Eliot's eyes twitched. "What do I mean?!" He gestured wildly around them. "Do you have any idea how much destruction follows you everywhere you go?"

Milo nodded sympathetically. "Oh, totally. That's, like, my whole life."

Eliot opened his mouth, then stopped. He groaned. "Okay, fair point." He adjusted his sunglasses, trying to regain some level of composure. "Look, kid, I just want one day of peace. Can you, I don't know, try to keep the disasters to a minimum around here?"

Milo beamed. "Of course! I'll do my best!"

At that exact moment, a pigeon swooped down, snatched Eliot's hat off his head, and carried it off into the sky.

Eliot closed his eyes, exhaled slowly, and muttered, "I hate this job."

Melissa patted his shoulder. "Maybe you should take your lunch break early?"

Eliot sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I will." He trudged away, muttering something about retirement plans and bird-related vendettas.

Milo watched him go, then turned back to his friends. "Nice guy. I should bake him some cookies!"

Zack chuckled. "Just make sure they don't explode."

Milo laughed. "No promises!"

And with that, the three friends walked across the street—just as a grand piano inexplicably fell from a moving truck, landing with a crash exactly where they'd been standing moments ago.

Eliot, now a few feet away, glanced over his shoulder at the wreckage and sighed. "Of course."

Just another normal day in Danville.