Ant Varela had been "getting ready for work" for forty-three minutes, which in Ant language meant he was still in his boxers, brushing his teeth with one hand, and trying to use a shadow portal to steal his own clean shirt from the dryer downstairs.
The portal snapped shut on his sleeve.
"Yo!" Ant yelled from upstairs. "Who the fuck touched my laundry magic?"
From the kitchen, Celeste didn't even look up from her coffee. "A grown man with no job should not have laundry magic."
"I have a job interview," Ant shouted back.
Nyla walked in, phone in hand, took one look at him, and smirked. "You smell like failed potential and cinnamon toothpaste."
Ant appeared in the kitchen through a portal, now wearing jeans, one sneaker, and a black tee that was somehow inside out. "Why do you always wake up hating?"
"Because you wake up existing," Nyla said.
Ramon sat at the table in pajama pants, using a tiny controlled flame to light a cigarette he wasn't supposed to be smoking in the house. Vice, the demon pet, was on the counter eating half a sausage link like he paid bills.
Ramon pointed at Ant. "You nervous?"
"Nah," Ant lied immediately. "I'm built for employment."
Celeste finally looked up. "Anthony. Last month you got fired from a delivery job because you opened a portal inside the manager's car."
"He was taking too long with my break."
"You were gone for two hours."
"I was spiritually overwhelmed."
Milo wandered in wearing an oversized hoodie and holding Pebble, his ugly little cursed creature. "Can I come to the interview?"
"No," everybody said.
Ant grabbed a piece of toast, opened a portal, and stepped through.
He came right back three seconds later.
"My bad," he said. "That was the bathroom."
Nyla burst out laughing.
Twenty minutes later, Ant stood outside Burger Burn in Grim Borough, staring at his reflection in the glass. Slim build, darker skin, clean edge-up, nice face, good chain, decent fit. He looked good. Responsible, though? That was pushing it.
Inside, the manager, Darla Finn, wore a visor and the dead-eyed expression of a woman who had seen too much. She sat Ant down with a clipboard.
"So," Darla said, "why do you wanna work here?"
Ant smiled. "I love food. I love people. I'm fast, dependable, and passionate about customer satisfaction."
At that exact moment, Vice turned invisible, snuck in through the front door, and whispered from under Ant's chair, "He stole meat from here twice."
Ant froze.
Darla narrowed her eyes. "What?"
"Nothing," Ant said quickly. "I said I respect meat. Deeply."
The interview somehow got worse from there.
When Darla asked if he had transportation, Ant said yes, then accidentally opened a tiny portal in his lap trying to hide his phone. When she asked about prior experience, Nyla texted him YOU ARE LITERALLY SWEATING THROUGH YOUR SHIRT. Then Ramon called. Twice.
By the time Darla stood up, Ant was sure he was done.
Instead, she sighed. "Honestly? This place is already cursed. You can start today."
Ant blinked. "Deadass?"
"Minimum wage. No disappearing. No stealing. No weird spiritual incidents."
Ant stood up grinning. "You got yourself a worker."
Three hours later, Burger Burn was on fire.
Not fully on fire. More like disrespectfully on fire.
Ant had tried using a micro-portal to move fries faster during the lunch rush. Instead, he redirected hot oil into the soft drink machine, teleported six burger buns into the bathroom, and somehow trapped a screaming customer's weave in a dimensional fold above register two.
Darla stared at the chaos in complete silence.
Ant held up both hands. "Before you say anything, I do think this is bigger than me."
Vice reappeared on the soda fountain, cackling.
A portal burped behind the grill and launched pickles at a cop.
Darla slowly pointed at the exit. "Get out."
Ant nodded. "That's fair."
He stepped through a portal straight back into the Varela kitchen, covered in grease, carrying a bag of stolen fries.
Celeste looked up. "You got fired."
Ant sat down like a war survivor. "This economy hates visionaries."
Nyla almost choked laughing.
Ramon reached into the fry bag. "How long you last?"
Ant stared into space. "Long enough to know I'm not meant for food service."
Milo looked hopeful. "Can I have the hat?"
Outside, Grim Borough went on being weird. Inside, the Varela house went on being worse.
By dinner, Ant was already talking about his next career.
And nobody with sense believed in it.