Detective Dick Gumshoe

[Gumshoe walks down the path to the mailbox, Missile following close by as he opens it. Pulling out the few letters, he dejectedly sorts through his mail, not really sure what to expect from the Mailman of Mayfield.]

"Bill... Bill... Bill..."

[He sighs, as Missile sits, watching him intently, wagging his tail. It's at this point that he comes to the last letter that was in the mailbox.]

"Eh? This isn't a bill..."

[Indeed, the letter appears to be in a security envelope and marked with a letterhead of a local business. Gumshoe looks down at his faithfully waiting dog with a smile.]

"A paycheck, huh? Well, guess I still need to buy noodles with money while here. Maybe we'll have enough left over to get you some hot dogs, Missile. I know they're not the same as the Samurai ones, but I guess they're the closest were going to get to it here. Let's take a look."

*SHRRRRRRIP*

"Let's see... Taxes, etc... Then Net pay iiiis...."

[Gumshoe's eyes widen in shock. THAT'S how much he earned? The job pays him THAT much? Possibly every month? Gumshoe can only do one thing in this situation:]

"I've hit the jackpot, pal! Wooooooop!"

[And that's when he begins a dance that would make the Blue Badger proud as Missile jumps around with him, making the occasional excited bark.]