"What the heck is he doing?" Mavis shot Oliver a suspicious look.


    Norton squinted, thinking. "Is he...dancing?"


    Uriah stared at Oliver, just as lost. After a long pause, realization hit him. Wasn''t this Ss''s deadbeat dad?


    "Wait, isn''t that Oliver?"


    "What''s that jerk doinging out of Ss''s room?" Uriah''s face darkened, annoyance clear in his voice.


    "Who?" Mavis turned around.


    "Ss''s actual father," Uriah muttered, narrowing his eyes.


    "That guy?" Norton''s expression soured too. They''d all done their homework on Ss''s background. His dad had a reputation, and none of it was good.


    Seeing Oliver in person just confirmed everything they''d read. If he was here for Ss, nothing good coulde of it.


    Just as they were about to step forward, Calliope and Ss emerged from the room, right behind Oliver.


    "What''s happening to me?" Oliver''s voice trembled. His arms and legs were jerking uncontrobly. The movements grew wilder, almost like he was breakdancing at a New York block party.


    "What''re you doing? What did you do to me?"


    Oliver tried to re at Calliope, but his head wouldn''t turn. He looked like a marite with tangled strings, his eyeballs rolling weirdly just to nce her way. It was unsettling, almostical.


    Then things got even weirder. His arms iled, his knees bounced, and he started spinning in ce, all without his say-so.


    Oliver panicked and shouted for help. "Somebody—get in here! Now! Number one, number two, number three!"


    Within seconds, his pack of bodyguards rushed in. The sight that greeted them made their jaws drop.


    "Boss, uh... what are you doing?"


    "Are you dancing?"


    "What kind of dance is that?"


    "Is that... tap dancing?"


    "Dude, it''s breakdancing!" another snorted.


    "Didn''t know the boss still had moves like that at his age! Respect!"


    The


    watched in awe as


    Oliver''s ''s limbs twisted and spun.


    O cuss them out, but helet


    too hard to speak clearly.


    "Morons...#%$@#..."


    "What''s he saying?" one guard asked, scratching his head.


    Another shrugged. "I think he said, ''If you can dance, join in! If you can''t, p along and keep the beat!""


    "And there''s a cash bonus for whoever joins in!" Calliope added, pping along with a dead-serious face.


    "Bonus?" The word lit up the guards'' eyes like Christmas morning.


    Didn''t matter if they could dance or not, they swarmed Oliver, pping and trying their best to breakdance alongside him.


    Oliver was losing his mind. He wanted to scream, but all he could do was re at them, which they took as encouragement to dance even harder.


    Within moments, he was


    surrounded by bodyguards busting


    out


    worst moves, the scene


    turning into a full-blown sh


    mob.


    Passersby stopped, wide-eyed. Some thought it was a sh mob, others thought


    it looked more like a bizarre exorcism.


    Calliope, meanwhile, was recording everything with her phone, grinning ear to


    ear.


    "Looking good, old man! Didn''t know you could do the splits!"


    Oliver was beyond despair. Every time he spun around, he shot Calliope a furious, helpless re.