Imagine with me, dear readers:
Sweet old Grandma Waterboy knitting a sweater for her newest foster cat, Wheel of Fortune playing quietly in front of her, when she hears the squeaking of her grandson's boots on their concrete floor.
"Hello, Hermy dear!" she calls, setting her project aside as he comes in, beaming at her. "Well don't you look positively sunny!"
"I-I-I am!" Herm says, flapping his hands excitedly, his stutter starting to even out as he eased back into being home. "Grandma I-I got picked! I'm gonna be a hero on the Z-Team!"
"Oh baby that's wonderful!"
"I know! Wow! And to think I started my day off drenched in noodles! Haha!"
He gave his grandma a big hug, his suit squeaking ever so slightly against the black leather jacket his grandma has had since the 80s, a convenient accessory both to keep her warm and slick off her grandson's water.
"I'll say! Whatever did you get drenched in noodles for?"
Giggling a little, Herman tells his grandma all about his mess up throwing away his coworker's lunch, how he'd tried to apologize, how it didn't end well, but at least he was able to rinse everything off, right? He's so elated at winning his dream that it obviously doesn't bother him anymore.
It bothers Grandma Waterboy. This isn't the first time. It probably won't be the last. And isn't that a shame. But no use dwelling tonight, since Hermy is so happy.
"Well isn't that a mishap!" Grandma Waterboy says lightly, picking up her notepad and flipping away from her knitting notes to jot something down. "'Flambae' was the one who did that? Well, hopefully you two learn to get along better. Now how about we make your favorite dinner to celebrate!"
The next day starts as normal, though Herman has to help someone get a toilet unclogged almost immediately upon entering the building. So he's not there to hear the *vrrrrrr* of a mobility scooter heading toward the lounge where the Z-Team meets before their shifts.
Their conversation dies down when the door is flung open. In rolls a tiny elderly woman, big round sunglasses hiding her eyes, a grandmotherly smile on her face, and a big leather jacket over her short frame to match the big clunker boots engulfing her ankles. Prism and Invisigal recognize the Joan Jett & the Blackhearts t-shirt under the jacket and decide they like this woman.
"Hello there!" the woman greets. "Which one of you pretty people is Flambae?"
Flambae raises his hand. The woman nods, then reaches into her bag, pulls out a cylinder, and flicks it out to reveal it's a full 2 foot long baton.
"I'm Herman's grandma. Nice to finally meet you. Now run, boy, this scooter goes 40."