Having recently been canned from his third job in as many months, Calvin Portcullis decided to indulge in a coffee from Caribou as he lazily enjoyed his recently favourited pastime — skipping stones across Lake Clara Meer while visualizing a nuclear air burst centered above Peachtree and 14th.

A rustle of shrubbery compels him away from the Dock and towards the shaded duck path to the Gazebo. A leather vest on thicket chest crashes through the branches.

“The guard’s behind the bank today.”

“What?”

“He’s watching today.”

“Yeah…?” Portcullis makes a note in his Palm III to cancel tomorrow’s interview.