Hope you guys have been enjoying the beginning of this new series of Middleman adventures! Please review and let me know what you think! Now on to Part 2!

The street housing the sub-par apartment of Daniel Dixon which looks like it hasn't been cleaned in years, according to his Mother.

1:34 P.M.

That was positively one of the weirdest things Danny had ever been through in his life.

At first, the main anchor of the station he worked at turned into a manic tentacle monster and tried to turn him into Cream of Danny. Then, apparently two F.B.I. agents showed up, flashed their badges and then proceeded to completely confuse him with their intentions. What WAS all that stuff about what he did or didn't see anyway? Danny knew what he saw, no matter what those two suits were going on about.

And as he walked back to his small apartment down the street from the station, he wondered if this day would possibly get any stranger. He climbed the stairs up to his floor and crossed down the hall to his door….which just happened to be padlocked with an eviction notice plastered on his door.


He leaned in closer to make sure that what he was seeing was right. It was sure enough a notice of eviction for failure to pay rent, which made absolutely no sense. He never missed any month's rent. In fact he had just turned in this month's check last week. It made no sense at all.

Strangely enough, there was a flier stuck between the wall and the side of the door. Danny pulled the flier out and read it.

"The Jolly Fats Wehawkin Apartment Services, Inc.? The hell?"

He'd never even heard of it. It didn't sound like a legitimate apartment service at all. Why would an apartment service leave him a flier on the day he was getting evicted? On that note, why was he getting evicted in the first place?

"This doesn't make any sense! I gotta go talk to the landlord."

He started down the hall again, and then stopped in his tracks.

"You mean the landlord that I've never seen and is never around….yet strangely was around long enough to evict me…."

He had always put his checks through the slot on the door of the landlord's office. He had yet to meet them or even tell if it was a man or a woman.

He rubbed his face in exasperation.

"Great. You're talking to yourself again, Danny. That's always constructive."

He looked down at the flier again, and shrugged. What the hell did he have to lose? More likely than not the landlord wouldn't be there anyways. He looked at the address at the bottom of the flier and walked back down the hall.