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Allan wasn't technically a "Smiling Friend." Not by definition, anyway.
Smiling Friends went around town (and beyond) and listened to people's problems, and they came up with solutions for those problems. They made people smile.
Allan wasn't very good at any of that.
Allan washed the dishes every so often. Allan committed minor tax fraud for the sake of the business. Allan took stock of the paperclips. (And everything else, but especially the paperclips.)
Allan rarely left the office. Not that he minded.
It meant he didn't have to wear pants. That the breakroom couldn't get the chance to become too messy. That he didn't have to try and be good at people when he really wasn't.
Pim and Charlie were already gone that day, something about people "getting in someone's head"? Allan didn't really know, or care. It wasn't his job.
Today was one of the days where he decided that the sink was too full. It probably wasn't, but it was something to do.
He was perfectly content like this; doing the small jobs around. Washing the dishes. He didn't have anything else to do, didn't have to deal with anything else.
(He had his earmuffs on, since both doing the dishes and acknowledging literally anything else would require too much energy.)
He was perfectly content doing the same things he did every day.
So when he heard the loud-ass alarm from The Boss go off again, he was more than a little surprised. Maybe it even startled him a bit. Not the point.
He dried off his hands (because needlessly wet hands can go to Hell) and left the breakroom. Glep had followed him too, apparently. Allan only realized that when he took off his earmuffs and heard the tiny man mumbling something in annoyance. While Allan could probably do with freshening up on his Wingon, he was fairly sure it was some string of curses.
When they eventually got to The Boss' office, they found him just...sitting at his desk. Which, if it were anyone else, wouldn't need to be stated. But this was Mr. Boss. He was always doing something. Neither Allan nor Glep paid any mind.
"Mr. Boss?" Allan tried.
"Boys! There you boys are, what took you so long? No, I'm kidding–"
"We were–"
"What?"
"No, sorry, go ahead."
"No, what were you-?"
"Just–We were just...I was doing something, and Glep probably was...too, so. Yeah."
"Oh. Well, anyway!" Moving swiftly along, as usual. That was nice.
"I know you guys are probably really busy right now," Was that sarcasm? Allan couldn't tell. "but I just got a call from someone! Two calls in one day, how crazy is that?"
The Boss paused for a second to let one of the boys respond, but when they didn't, he just kept talking.
"He wouldn't say what was wrong though, so...not sure how he expects us to help. But we're going to anyway! Assuming you two are up for it?"
Despite the way it was worded, this definitely was not optional. It was never optional. There was already a bright yellow folder on the desk (why couldn't he just use regular brown ones?), and he had that look in his eyes, and it was never optional.
"Yeh." Glep shrugged. This almost scared Allan again, he often forgot that Glep could speak something that kind of sounded like English sometimes.
Getting over this easily enough, Allan also answered.
"I mean, I don't really want to–" He immediately regretted the first half of that sentence. "–but yeah, sure."
"Perfect! Thank you, boys!" The obnoxiously bright folder was slid across the desk.
The Boss was being...weirdly normal today. Allan didn't really feel like trying to figure him out. He was bad enough at people when he wasn't putting in effort, and he was about to spend the next...what, few hours? Doing exactly that. This was not his job.
Nonetheless, he picked up the folder and turned for the door...only to find Glep already gone. Great.
"Glep! Wait up!" He followed after the green man.
Glep was waiting outside of the buidling for him. At least he hadn't lost him, Allan wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to get him back.
"Okay, Glep, let's go."
Allan made for the company car, even reached for the door, before he realized that it was gone. Right, Pim and Charlie had it...Well, that was just great, wasn't it?
"...Well what are we going to do now??"
"Shudkfelsid, weldihtuh?'
"You're right, Glep, we can take the public trans-port-uh."
Without really having any other options (besides walking, but neither of them thought about that), they decided to take the bus.
One of the many downsides of public transport, in Allan's opinion, is that it takes forever to get literally anywhere. Including on the actual bus! This was proven by the fact that the two had been standing at the bus stop closest to the office for the past twenty minutes. Which probably wasn't that long, but it felt like it! They'd probably be at their destination by now if they had gotten to use the car!
Allan decided to pass this excruciatingly long time by going over the folder that Mr. Boss had left them. He wasn't really paying attention to it, more so just skimming the basic information. Hey, it was better than going in blind.
Name, age, address, all of that stuff...and there were three question marks next to the "Reason for Call" section, which had a huge space dedicated to it. So that was helpful.
He shifted to lean on one foot when he felt a few pebbles digging into his skin. There was a weird amount of pebbles, Allan noticed, for a sidewalk. He tried not to step on any, but sometimes it was unavoidable. Maybe he should invest in some shoes for occasions like this. He'd remember to do that later. Probably. Maybe.
There was also a picture in the corner of what Allan assumed to be the client. How did Mr. Boss get a picture if there was a phone call? Eh, it didn't really matter to Allan.
Though, the picture looked like it was taken in a room with the lights off, curtains drawn, in the middle of the night. That is to say, it was basically just a black square in the corner of the page. There was probably a vague outline to be made out somewhere, but it was just way too dark for Allan to tell.
Great. Just amazing, really. Instead of washing the dishes like normal, (Oh God he left the sink full) he was out trying to make someone smile. Someone who he knew virtually nothing about. Hell, his name was apparently John! How much more cookiecutter can a person be??
Maybe that was on purpose? Maybe the client wanted to stay anonymous? But then, why would he give his name? It was only a first name, maybe it was a required field or something...But a reason wasn't?
He was probably looking too deep into this. Trying too hard to make it make sense. It would be clearer once they got there, he was sure. They would get an actual reason, they'd maybe be able to help, and–
His train of thought was derailed by Glep punching his leg. Not that he'd be able to reach any higher.
"What the hell, Glep, what?" Allan finally acknowledged Glep. He looked down to see him angrily pointing at the road.
Confused, Allan turned towards the road. The bus had driven off. Yay.
"What the fuck?" He was done with today already. Sure, maybe this was at least a little bit his fault...or a lot bit his fault...or just his fault. But he was allowed to be annoyed about it!
"Skiijpak laidodkjl abuiso?"
"I am not wai-ting another twenty minutes, Glep. We'll just walk." Allan turned on his heel and started down the sidewalk.
Glep ran behind him, grumbling curses under his breath. At the bus, at Allan for having such long legs, at himself for having such short ones, at the whole situation in general. Allan eventually picked him up, setting him on his shoulder, trusting him to not fall off. Was it stupid? Maybe. Did Glep appreciate it? Yeah, of course he did.
Allan honestly wasn't sure what street they were on, now. He wasn't good with streets in general. The only ones he knew off of the top of his head were the office (Which he couldn't see anymore) and his apartment (Which was a twenty minute drive from the office anyway.)
He just knew that he had to get to 904 Meep Blvd. Even then, he kept looking back at the folder while he walked to make sure.
904 Meep Blvd. 904 Meep Blvd. 9...904 Meep Blvd. 9...Wait, what?
It was during one of these times, where Allan had to look down at his folder, that someone decided to stand in the middle of the sidewalk and run into the two. That's what Allan felt like, anyway.
No one fell over, at least. It took Allan completely out of his head, but he was alright. His hand flew to his shoulder to make sure Glep didn't fall and probably die or something. He seemed to be fine, too.
Allan really couldn't deal with this right now. Maybe on another day, if he were walking home from work or doing anything that wasn't part of his job, he would've made a small deal of it. Today, in this situation, he couldn't be bothered.
So he went to pick up the bright yellow file (which he only just realized he dropped), almost missing the one paper with useful information on it, and moved on. Maybe he shot a glare behind him. It was deserved.
They walked for a bit. Well, Allan walked. Glep rode. He was lucky Allan kind of liked him. Despite knowing he'd just get it messed up again, Allan continued repeating the address in his head, occasionally looking up to find a sign or something that could prove that they were going in the right direction. It felt necessary. It wasn't, probably, but it felt like it was.
904 Meep Blvd. 904 Meep Blvd. 904...904 Meep Blvd. 90...Fuck.
Another glance at the paper.
There was a hole where the number on the address was. Now, it read "Meep Blvd." This damn sidewalk with those damn pebbles!
Allan was genuinely considering just giving up at this point. Going back to the office. It would have been easier. He could just say that they failed to make John smile, forge the paperwork. Glep would go along with it.
But no, he really couldn't, could he? Even if he really wanted to–Which, yeah, he did–he couldn't. He has never once half-assed a job, let alone failed or quit one. Not even when he almost died getting some paperclips for Mr. Boss. He wasn't about to start now!
So he kept walking. He tried to not think about that stupid number (it had proven useless and even detrimental by this point), but of course, he couldn't just not think about it.
904 904 904 904 904 904 904 904–
"Glep?"
"Yeh?"
"Do you remember the add-ress Mr. Boss gave us?"
"Shalsk loasd idoaits."
Right, Glep hadn't even seen anything in the file.
"Well, I'm going to tell you, in case I for-get."
Allan then proceeded to not tell Glep the address for a solid 20 seconds.
"...Gisiged?"
Allan turned his head (as much as he could without smacking the guy).
"What?"
...
"Oh."
If he didn't feel stupid before, after the running into the guy and the almost forgetting the address, he did now.
"It's 9...90– 90..."
Allan stopped walking. Apparently, much to his dismay, he couldn't handle walking and remembering a thing at the same time. Allan was loving his life right now.
"...904. 904 Meep Bou-le-vard. You got that?"
"Yeh."
"Say it."
"Jakiofd aplfid lioh."
"Good." He went on down the sidewalk. Luckily for him, he was starting to get used to the rocks digging into his feet. That was one good thing in all of this.
Really, he shouldn't even be here right now. He should be in the office. He'd probably be done with the dishes ages ago if he didn't have to leave. And what were the chances that Mr. Boss came into the breakroom, looked at the sink, and finished the dishes before they came back? Slim to none. Allan was willing to bet that he was going to be dealing with none.
So. He'd have to do this job, get back, deal with the only half empty sink (which probably had cold water, he'd need to rerun the water), do whatever else needed to be done around the office, and then he can go home. Yay.
Why couldn't Mr. Boss get that M&M looking guy that Pim was telling him about? Wait, no, that guy was dead or something.
But surely, there was someone else who could've done this, no? Someone who was actually good at this?
Allan imagined Pim hearing his thoughts, yelling in his ear, "You never know until you try, Allan!!" But the thing was, he had tried before. Sure, the two jobs he'd been on technically ended in success. But not because of him!
That homeless guy definitely wasn't because of him (though, to be fair, he was more concerned with getting him a place to sleep that wasn't in front of the office.)
And that girl with the three kids only smiled after that weird naked guy showed up.
Allan hasn't once completed a job.
But hey, maybe that would change today. Maybe he should take a page out of Pim's book today, the page on optimism or whatever. He'd make sure to give it back, though. Pim needed that page.
After what felt like another hour, but probably couldn't have been more than five minutes, Allan stopped. There was a sign just by the road, what did that say?
"904 Meep Blvd"
...
They actually made it.
Not that it was a treacherous journey or anything, but Allan just really wanted to be done already. He was done.
It was about now that Allan realized, again, that he was not very good at people. This is why he never went out on missions. Well, he didn't really have a choice now, did he?
Listen to problem, come up with solution for problem, solve problem. Simple as that.
To the left, there was a small house sandwiched between another, taller house, and a place that sold jars of dirt in various sizes. Allan recognized it, he usually went there for dirt for his garden. He didn't recognize the house, though. To be fair, he didn't usually go around memorizing houses.
"Okay, Glep, we're here."
"Hakisd pofudmf?"
"I mean...you can, but it might be better if I greet the cli-ant, just–"
"Boiuyf kaufhis wekpcf!"
"Just because they would probably understand me bet-ter!"
"...Gohdlfd."
"Thank you, Glep."
Allan walked up to the house, just avoiding a nail that was sticking up out of the patio. Honestly, he probably wouldn't have felt it even if he had stepped on it. He knocked on the door twice.
Listen to problem, come up with solution for problem, solve problem.
The door opened. On the other side stood a man that, in all honesty, looked vaguely like that waitress lady Pim described a while back, from when he and Mr. Boss went to Spamtopia. Allan preferred not to think about that day for his own reasons.
"Hello, we're the Smiling Friends." Hey, he actually got it right this time! And he managed a pleasant enough tone!
There were a few seconds of awkward silence. The man was looking at Allan like he didn't know what was going on. Maybe he wasn't the one who called?
Eventually, the man spoke up.
"Oh, uh...Yeah...I–You guys don't have to...be here."
What??
"Did you...Did you not call us?" If he'd gotten the address wrong after who knows how many times he thought about it, he didn't know what he'd do.
"No, yeah, I-I did, just. Um. I figured it was kind of weird to get some strangers to come over to my house because I have problems, it...Yeah..."
Well, that wouldn't do. Most of the time, Allan would accept this. Just say "Okay" and move on. But not this time. This time, for whatever reason, he was determined to actually get the job done.
"I mean, what...What's your problem?"
Smooth, Allan.
Listen to problem, come up with solution for problem, solve problem.
"Just, uh, y'know." Allan did not, in fact, know.
Another pause.
It was glep who broke it this time. Kind of.
He stood up on Allan's shoulder, and started...dancing? It was a pretty cool dance, to be fair, but...why?
"Glep, what are you–"
"Giofdh!"
Okay then.
This went on for a solid twenty seconds.
And then...
The man–John, this guy was John–started laughing.
It wasn't loud or anything, and it wasn't a lot, but he was laughing.
They did it. Well, Glep did it. Allan just kind of stood there. But still! The guy was smiling! Succesful mission!
Ten minutes and two pages of paperwork (Which Allan took care of) later, and they were on their way back to the office. They decided to take the bus.
Yeah, it took a half hour, and they almost got hit by cars like three times (Allan was convinced the bus driver didn't have a license), and there was someone yelling about the stockmarket the whole way, and there were a hundred other problems, but Allan didn't really care today.
So they made it to the office, into the breakroom. Glep immediately went to his beanbag and fell asleep. Allan didn't blame him. He went for the sink, he hadn't forgotten about the dishes the entire time they were gone. He forgot a three digit number many times, but he didn't forget the dishes. Priorities.
To his surprise, the sink was...empty? Why was the sink empty?
"Oh, Allan!"
Allan turned around. How was he just noticing that the others were back?
"I finished up the dishes for you! I thought that if you left it, you must have been busy, so I did it!"
Of course he did. Of course Pim did the dishes.
"...Thank you, Pim."
"Of course!"
Allan opened the cupboards above the sink, as he had very little faith that the cups (and everything else) were put away properly. He was correct in that assumption.
"...You didn't even do it right."
"Yeah, I– Charlie put them away, sorry, Allan."
Then, Charlie decided to put in his opinion.
"I feel like it–it doesn't matter that much, man."
"Well it does." It really did. To Allan, anyway. Charlie knew that.
Most of the rest of the work day was spent with Allan trying to fix the mess that were the cupboards.
He was perfectly content like this; doing the small jobs around. Organizing the dishes. He didn't usually have anything else to do.
And while he wasn't very good at making people smile, that was okay.
It wasn't really his job.