BensonQuest (RS/CN: VV)

Skimming through the application papers, you note that there's a surprising number of them than you were expecting. It wasn't usually for people to voluntarily offer their services to park recreational and needs, given the hard manual labor that goes into it, but the boss being your home's King might have something to do with that.

One of the few times I'm glad my power shtick works out in my favor. Wonder if I can use it to cut the line at Cheeser's? ...nah, I'm a King, not a prick.

You glance at the applicants, locating a phone number on their sheets and reach for the landline. It's late at night, so no one really picks up the phone when you call each one, but you leave a message on their voicemail telling them the time and place to meet up with you for an interview. You got a good feeling once you finish making the calls, tidying up your office desk before leaving for the night.

Let's hope these guys are as any good as the old crew. And for the love of... I don't really know what god to ask, since I've met like twenty in the past six years... but please, someone out there, don't let any of these people be a Rigby. One's bad enough to deal with already.

---

KNOCK-KNOCK!!

"Come in."

You're sitting at your desk the next morning, watching person after person come and go in a slew of meetings. Most of them were either kids fresh out of high school and college looking for some extra cash, or people down on their luck trying to find something to make ends meet. You feel bad for some of them, but this job calls for more dedication and experience than one would think. And you're hoping this next one would break that cycle.

The door opens and in walks a blue cat lady... lady cat... female feline?

I feel like that one's insensitive so I'm not gonna bring it up until they do.

"Ah, good morning," you glance down at the paper on your desk, noting the name on it. "Mrs. Watterson. It's nice to meet you."

She shakes your hand, her smile a little strained. "It's Miss Watterson now."

"Ah. My, uh... apologies, I didn't mean to be insensitive."

"Not to worry," she shrugs, sitting down in the chair across from you. "It's still something I'm getting used to. But that's not what we're here to focus on today, though."

"Yeah, that's true. So, Ms. Watterson, what brings you to the Park?"

"Well, my kids and I just moved to the City after... recent events... in our family forced us to relocate, and we found a small apartment that suit our needs. I've looked around job listings but none of them really suited my needs."

"Really now? And those are...?"

"Better housing," she says, her face conveying why she picked this job up. "I noticed your ad offered free housing to any employees registered under you, and well, not to come across as callous, but it's one of the reasons I put in an application here. But I assure you that I have plenty of skills that can be beneficial to your Park's needs."

"Uh-huh. And what kind of skills are we talking about here."

A smirk grows on her face as she suddenly stands and bends down, picking up your mahogany desk with one. HAND?!

You stare, slack-jawed, in bafflement as she dangles it nonchalantly over you.

"I trust that this means you'll keep me in consideration?"

"Ohhhh, yeah."

---

---

"I SAY, I SAY, A GOOD HOWDY MORNIN' TO YOU, PARDNER! MUST SAY THAT YOU LOOK MIGHTY SPIFFY IN THAT THERE SUIT THERE, GOTTA KNOW WHO YOUR COBBLER IS AND IF I CAN HIRE HIM! HA-HAH!!"

"...uh-huh."

You stare in bemusement at the tall, boisterous chicken man that just walked into your office. He did hold himself in a confidence you couldn't help but admire in a chicken man whose voice could shatter all the windows on a skyscraper.

"Well, Mister... Foghorn Leghorn, is it? You're here for the job interview?"

Foghorn leaned back and crossed his legs with all the grace of a dignified southern bird-man. "That's right, son! I saw your little notice about a job opening, and I thought, 'Why not let ol' Foghorn show 'em how it's done?'."

"Alright then. Let's start with your qualifications. What makes you think you're fit for this job?"

"Son, I've been handling responsibilities since before you were a glimmer in your creator's eye. I'm a natural leader, and I've got the charm to keep everyone in line."

Creator? Does he think I was made on a factory line?!
You fight back your growing annoyance, even though your voice was clipped and curt now. "Charm, huh? We're looking for someone who can manage a team efficiently. How do you handle conflicts among your coworkers?"

"Conflicts, eh? Well, I usually just talk 'em down with my smooth southern charm. Ain't nobody can resist Foghorn Leghorn's way with words."

"Smooth southern charm, huh? That's all well and good, but we need someone who can stay calm under pressure. How do you handle stressful situations?"

The smile he flashes you is the type you see on ad posters everywhere. Open and inviting to anyone that sees it, luring them in with honeyed words and promises. You get the feeling that it's something he's practiced for a long time.

"Son, stress is for the weak. I handle it like a rooster handles the dawn – head held high and crowin' with confidence!"

"Hmm, confidence is good, but we also need someone who can follow directions. Can you take orders without questioning them?"

"Why, of course! I'm a team player, as long as the team recognizes who's in charge."

That crosses off one of the concerns in your mind. A man with a silver tongue like that would normally try to pull a fast one on others to rise up in the ranks, but as you stare at Foghorn, you get the feeling that he's being genuine about his words.

You nod in approval, leaning back in your chair. "Alright, one last thing. How do you feel about slacking off on the job?"

"Well, son," Foghorn's smile takes on a mischievous edge. "A little downtime never hurt nobody. A nap here, a break there – keeps the feathers shiny."

You sigh, feeling the familiar feeling of a migraine throbbing at your temple. "Mr. Leghorn, we're looking for someone who takes their job seriously. And being a member of this crew requires you to have that same level of seriousness when handling your tasks for the day. I'm all for a break as any normal boss would, but a nap feels like a step too far."

"Now, hold on there, son. You see, a nap ain't just a nap. It's a strategic recharge to ensure peak performance when the time comes."

You aren't really impressed by his explanation. If anything, it feels like talking to Rigby but with a southern accent. "We don't need strategic nappers; we need someone who can keep the team on track. The work here is demanding, and we can't afford to have someone snoozing when there's a job to be done."

"Son, you're missing the finer points of workin' smart, not hard. A well-timed nap can make all the difference."

You can feel your face grow heated at Foghorn's words, his nonchalant attitude.

"We're not running a relaxation resort here, Mr. Leghorn. We need commitment and dedication, not someone looking for a hand-out while sleeping on the job!"

Foghorn actually smirks at that. "Well, I reckon you'll be missin' out on the Foghorn touch of efficiency. But, suit yourself, son."

"Efficiency is important, but so is responsibility. We'll be in touch, Mr. Leghorn."

---

---

As the next person walks in, you feel your face heat up but in an entirely different manner than how Foghorn's meeting went. Was it just you or did someone crank up the heat in this room?

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Mr. President."

"M-my pleasure, Miss Bellum, was it?"

"It is."

The attractive redhead, whose face was shrouded in mystery by that gorgeous hair of hers, was poised elegantly across from you. Her dress and exotic... um, features... made it hard for you to focus as you began the interview.

"So, Miss Bellum, I hear you used to work in Townsville as a city official, right?"

"Correct. I was the Mayor's assistant for many years, often times taking on his role whenever he was indisposed with... other activities."

"I see. And you did this all by yourself?"

"It wasn't as hard as one makes it out to be. In my profession, keeping a level head helps you through some of the madness you see out there in the world. And believe you and me, Townsville was full of it."

"So I've heard," you quietly chuckled, sweat dropping down your face.

"Living in a place like Townsville for so long gave me a new perspective on things. I was always committed to making the city a better place, up until... regardless. My experience in handling various crises has prepared me for the challenges that come with managing a city's operations, whether it'd be the boring bureaucratic processes or, nine times out of ten, covering the disaster relief programs following a supervillain and/or monster's rampage in the city."

"Impressive. Now, we deal with a mix of regular and, um, irregular challenges here. How do you balance the mundane tasks with the unexpected chaos?"

"Balance is crucial. While I understand the importance of routine tasks, my experience has taught me to stay adaptable. Whether it's thwarting a villain or handling bureaucratic matters, I believe in maintaining a flexible approach."

"Good to know," you smile in approval. You hope that your face isn't as flushed as it feels. "We also need someone who can lead and manage a team effectively. How do you handle leadership responsibilities?"

"Leadership, to me, is about fostering a collaborative environment where everyone's strengths are utilized. It's one of the reasons why the Mayor's office and the Powerpuff Girls were so close in the golden days. Without it, everything would've come undone."

"Collaboration is key here. And what's your take on handling stress and pressure?"

Her response came in the form of a breathy chuckle. "Trust me, I'm more than capable of taking the stresses of the job in stride. Compared to my old one, this shouldn't be so complicated."

You grimace, but don't press the matter further.

"Well, Miss Bellum, you seem well-qualified for the job. We'll be in touch after we finish the interview process to give you our final thoughts."

"Thank you, Mr. Benson. I look forward to the possibility of working together."

As she leaves, you quickly reach for the box of tissues in your desk to dab at your face.

"Woof..."

---

---

Your next interview was rather... unorthodox.

Mainly because of who you were interviewing.

"So, mister," you look down at the application, raising an eyebrow warily. "...Jack Spicer? What sorta skills comes with being an 'Evil Boy Genius' in your own words?"

"Pssh, what's it sound like to ya," Jack Spicer, a pale red-haired boy with Asian origins, kicked his feet up onto your desk smugly. You swiped them off with a backhand that made him yelp in surprise. "Hey, watch the boots! They don't come cheap, you know!"

"It sounds like I need a good reason not to throw you out of here right now. But we here at the Park don't discriminate others based on past... dubious backgrounds..." you inwardly cringe as you say that. Somewhere, you get the feeling that Muscle Man is laughing. "So I'll give you a chance. Tell me, what makes you think you're fit for a position here?"

"Look, chrome dome, being an evil genius isn't easy. I've built robots, created my own Jack-Bots (trademarked!) and other killer gadgets, and managed to annoy enough do-gooders more times than I can count. When it comes to robotics, I know how to get things done and who to get rid of."

You stare blankly at Jack. "This isn't a job that calls for assassinations on a daily basis... I think. We're not looking for someone to create chaos here. We need someone who can handle day-to-day operations and work well with others. How do you fit into that?"

"Well, you see, running a villainous operation takes coordination and strategy," Jack boasted. "I've got leadership skills like no other."

"Uh-huh." you glance back down at his resume. "'Cause it says here you used to work under a missus... Wuya? Who fired you for, and I quote, 'being a dumb grease monkey'?"

"THAT'S A LIE!!" he yanks the resume out of your hands, glaring murderously into it. "THAT WITCH DOESN'T KNOW WHAT SHE'S TALKING ABOUT! SHE'S JUST JEALOUS CAUSE I'M THE ONE WHO HAD ALL THE MONEY AND SKILL TO MAKE OUR GADGETS WORK, NOT HER STUPID DEMON MAGIC!"

A knock on the door, and Josh popped his head in. "Hey, Benson, you okay in here? Thought I heard some kind of chimp running around in here."

"INGRATE! JACK-BOTS, ATTACK!!"

Josh screeches in horror as Jack unleashed two discs that transform into twin bronze-colored robots blazing with weapons. He slammed the door shut, which the robots didn't hesitate to smash through, the sounds of laser fire mixed with Josh's screams echoing throughout the house.

Jack laughed manically, hearing the screams before he blinked, coming back to reality. He turns back to you, smirking in a way that he probably perceives as... cool.

"Oh, by the way, I'm a genius – you can't deny the appeal of having that kind of brainpower on your team."

"Get. Out."
Jack blinks. "...so I got the job, orrrr-"

"OUT!!"
He was gone faster than you could blink.

---

---

You just got done repairing the door to your office when the next person walked in. Compared to Jack, this one was a godsend, given her casual demeanor and down-to-earth personality. It kinda reminded yourself of you but, you know... as a human.

"So, Miss... Tyson?" you blink, taking an eyebrow. You can't help but joke. "Any relation to Mike Tyson?"

"Yeah, he's my dad."

...

"Wh-what?"

Yung-Hee Tyson shrugged, crossing her legs. "Yeah, he adopted me when I was just a baby, but don't let that freak you out. My dad and his... eccentricities... won't have any place here, I hope. We, ah, parted ways a long time ago."

"Oh. Nothing too serious, I hope."

"Nah, nothing like that. Just got tired of being in his shadow for so long that I figured it was time for me to branch out and find my own calling. Looked around the country for some job listings, but most of them were owned by either corporate overload douchebags or sociopaths that get a kick out of enslaving the human race, so my choices are slim."

"Understandable. I hope I don't fall into either line-up," you chuckle weakly.

Yung-Hee just stares back at you, as your chuckles awkwardly fade away.

You clear your throat. "So... Yung-Hee, according to your resume, you've been involved in solving mysteries with your father and his mystery team. What exactly qualifies you for a job at the park?"

"Well, Mr. Benson, I've encountered all sorts of strange situations and unpredictable events. I have a knack for handling the unexpected and keeping my cool under pressure."

"Handling the unexpected is something you'll need if you want a job around here. Feels like every week we have something new popping up."

Outside, you can hear the faint sounds of combat as Josh and his family beat the unholy hell out of a screaming Jack. You try your best to not look in that direction, though you take satisfaction in hearing the evil genius get what was coming to him. That'll teach him not to destroy your doors.

"And what about teamwork? Our park requires employees to work together efficiently. Can you handle that?"

"Of course! Teamwork is crucial in solving mysteries with dad, even if some of the others weren't the most cooperative with us. If I can handle working with a man trapped in a pigeon's body and a half-dead ghost, then I can handle working with whoever else you got hired on here."

"Good. Happy to hear it. We'll keep you informed, Yung-Hee, while making our final decisions."

"Thanks. Now, uh... mind checking to see if that fight outside's finished?"

"Yeah, sure."

You get up and walk to the window, watching the spectacle of Josh, Emily, and their friends beat down Jack while Candice cheers them on from afar.

"AAAAH-AAAAH-AAAAH!! MY FACE, WHY IS IT ALWAYS THE FACE?!"

"...yeah, you're good to go."

"CALL AN AMBULANCE, PLEAAAASE!!"

---

---

The last interview for the day was one you weren't expecting, especially when you read the resume that they had.

"Ah, welcome, miss..." you hesitate, looking at their name on paper. "I'm sorry, it only has your alter-ego name on here. Is there something else I can call you or-"

"It's just Jinx. Been that way my whole life."

"Gotcha, gotcha. Didn't mean to offend you or anything like that."

"No worries."

You try to hide your unease while sitting across from a famed supervillain. Even before you blasted off into space, you remember watching the news out of an area called Jump City where Jinx's face was seen prominently among a group of young criminal delinquents that tore up entire blocks before they were stopped by the local teenage heroes. Since your return and learning about the kingdoms, you expected her to be up in HIVE Kingdom with the rest of her buddies, subjugating the masses with their wicked powers and numbers.

Instead, she's here. In your Park. Looking for a regular 9-5 job.

This world keeps getting stranger and stranger.
"So, what brings you to our neck of the woods? Touring the sites or something?"

"Considering my last place is currently under a gestapo police state, your City is a step-up from Jump already. Plus, less tacky with its color. All gray and smog blocking out the sun is horrible for my skin."

You look at her unnaturally pale skin, which made the pink hair and dark gothic clothes on her stand out even more so. "I would say so."

"Yeah, I know, right?" she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs casually over one another. "So, when the big man took over the city and turned it into an Orwellian hell-hole, I was ecstatic at first. Me and my friends were allowed to take what we wanted whenever, and no one could stop us. No super dorks to get in our way, no cops to try and bust down our operations, and no consequences for anything that came our way. It was great for awhile."

"Until?"

"...I got bored," she said flippantly, avoiding your gaze. "Turns out ruling the world isn't as fun as one makes it out to be. So I left and looked around for something to keep me on my toes. Tried DKC for awhile, but the furries there creeped me out, so I left. Orchid Bay was nice, but too many monsters and was too small for my liking. Now I'm here and, well..."

She shrugged unashamedly as she said, "I like the look of your Park. It's nice, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Well, duh, that's what I just said."

You rub at your temples, trying to fight back the growing migraine.

"Okay, that's... swell and all, but what kind of skills can you bring to our crew that others don't?"

Jinx slowly stood up, putting you on edge. With a sugar-sweet smile, she motioned for you to follow her with one hand to the window. You warily do so, looking outside to find... Jack yelling at your current worker from afar, wrapped up in bandages with a robot nurse(?) near him.

"YOU FOOLS HAVEN'T SEEN THE LAST OF ME, DO YOU HEAR?! MY VENGEANCE WILL BE SWIFT AND MERCILESS! A THOUSAND YEARS OF DOOM AND TORTURE AWAIT YOU ONCE I UNLEASH MY LATEST JACK-BOTS TO TURN YOUR WHOLE PARK INTO ASH!"

"I noticed," Jinx commented while watching the commotion. "That your park has a problem with trash. So I figured I'd put my skills to good use and take it out."

Raising one hand, she focused on Jack's location and snapped her fingers.

"--NOT EVEN YOUR PET GOLDFISH WILL BE SAFE FRO--eh?"

A pink stream of power raced across the Park, tearing up the earth in its path. All the while Jack stood there, watching... and watching... and was he ever gonna move?

"AIYEEEEE!!"

...apparently not, given that the power was strong enough to literally catapult him from out of sight into the sky, his form becoming a twinkling star from afar. Panicking, the robot nurse chased after its master, screaming about applying more band-aids to tend to its creator's 'boo-boos'.

"Huh. Not bad."

"Thanks," Jinx winks at you. "Hopefully that's enough to keep me considered, yes?"

"Oh, most certainly."

---

---

Who Do You Hire? (Select up to 2)
[ ] Nicole Watterson
[ ] Foghorn Leghorn
[ ] Sara Bellum
[ ] Jack Spicer (RIP)
[ ] Yung-Hee Tyson
[ ] Jinx

---

Mortarium will end in six hours!