The morning had started just like any other. Routine dominating his schedule. Hell, everything from knowing exactly 15 minutes after waking up he would be in the shower, to knowing exactly what time to start baking today's scones. Everything was always so meticulous with him. Everything had to be so perfect, so orderly, so controlled. But perfection, orderly, and control had been in short supply these pass couple of days.

Each and every time she came to visit him, Aiko, his so-called guardian angel brought nothing but chaos, brought nothing but disorder to his meticulous life. It was the early morning hours that brought him the most comfort, the most piece, the most solitude. Just as a fresh batch of scones were going into the oven, a happy, satisfied smile plastered across his face, she comes running in, like a bat, perpetually, out of Hell.

"Pia! Pia! Pia! Piiiiiaaa!"

Already, he knew whom it was, her young, almost squeaky, often shrilly voice piercing his ears like an ice pick. Clenching his jaw, taking a deep, methodical breath, he slowly turns around.

"Pia!"

"What?! Why are you yelling? What??" he frustratingly asks, already knowing, already certain, whatever it is she has come to pester him with this day will not be good.

Grinning like a fool, those pearly white teeth, even in death, stunningly bright. Bouncing on her toes, her tiny, Asian body stretches across the counter, midriff exposed as Aiko's charcoal tank top slides up her tiny frame, and as those tiny hands grip the front of his lime green work uniform, she has incredible strength, practically pulling him over the counter with a single tug.

"We need to go outside! Right now! Hurry," she yells, still pulling on his collar, and with another show of unbelievable strength, he comes rolling over the counter, knocking over the napkin dispenser with his left foot. "Go, go, go! You're going to miss it!"

Being as vague as ever, she simply shoves him out the door, stumbling to a halt on the sidewalk outside.

"And... what, exactly, am I supposed to be looking for?" Hands held up, Mr. Coffee looks left, looks right, looks across the street, and when nothing jumps out at him, he is looking over his right shoulder.

Storming out of the coffee shop, the fiery Asian says nothing, just slaps him in the back of the head, before jerking his head back, by his rigid, green mohawk, forcing him to look towards the sky. "This," she merely says, pointing in the direction, at the exact center, of a large outcrop of clouds.

"I... don't... see... anything..." Pia merely reports, but then, just before his eyes, he does start to see something. Slowly, the clouds begin departing, and as soon as there is a crack within their massive structure, a piercing light comes from the sky, causing him to squint. Brighter and brighter the light grows. With his mouth hanging open slightly, silent, save for the gentle sound of mouth breathing, he stares up at the shimmering sky, and just when the light becomes too much, just when he can take no more, when he is forced to close his handsome, green eyes, he is totally enveloped in the light.

Nothingness.

Then... a ringing phone.

Persistent ringing.

Was somebody going to get the phone?

Suddenly, his eyes snap open, revealing what should be Main Street, but, instead, is a beautiful, Art Deco office waiting room. Across from him, on the other side of a rather high, marble-covered counter, a beautiful redhead sits, hair perfectly pinned up, complete with the full secretary attire. Finally, she answers the phone, bringing it to her right here before reciting, in a practiced, cheery voice, "Pearly Gates Inc., how may I direct your call? No, I'm afraid he is out of the office until tomorrow. Can I take a message?"

What on earth was this place? 'Where am I?' he repeatedly asks himself, but it wasn't until the phone conversation was completed that he is spotted. Smiling, ruby red lipstick covering those perfectly pillow-shaped lips, the secretary waves him towards the desk.

Reluctantly, left foot forward first, he seems to move uncontrollably towards the woman, her beauty growing the closer he gets. Finally, he is within reach of the desk, clearing his throat as he rests his hands on the polished surface.

"You must be Pia. We were told you were coming by today, and I think I have a package for you..." she says, trailing off, turning around to start digging through a massive, ridiculously high, Out Box. Whatever this company did, they sure sent out a lot of mail.

Seemingly knowing exactly where it is, the redheaded secretary reaches into the center of the ridiculous pile, pulling out a thick manila envelope, which, on the surface, looks ordinary enough, but it's only when it's slid across the counter, for him to take hold of, that he is able to see the strange postage mark.

"Now you make sure and open that as soon you get home, okay, Sugar? The Boss don't send those out to just anyone, you hear me? Now, run along back to that feisty bitch that's been assigned to you, and don't take any of her crap!"

But before he can say, before he can ask, anything, the room begins filling with the same overwhelming, all encompassing light from before, and just before things become too much, the phone begins ringing once more. Slowly, the ringing fades from existence, leaving the echoing chamber of his eardrums, until there is nothing but the unmistakable din of a busy city street.

A large truck screaming past him causes him to flip open his eyes in a panic, but it's the splash of puddle water that really catches him off guard, totally saturating him from head to toe.

"Dumb fuckin' redneck!" Aiko's voice brings him back to the here and now, before her unbelievable strength is pulling him, by the right arm, back inside the coffee shop. "Jesus, you see that fucker almost hit you with his truck?? Anyways, what did you get?!"

It was all too much, all too soon, and all at once. First he was here, then he was there, wherever there was, and now he was back here, with his dead friend screaming at him.

"W-what? What did I... get?" Obviously, Mr. Coffee was beyond confused.

But staring up at him, a look of being completely not amused spreads across her face, Aiko simply snatches the sealed envelope from his hands. "Awww, balls, you got it all wet! Christ, Pia..."

Still, trying to get a grip will was going on, get a grip of where he just was, and get a grip on whatever his friend was going on about, he stands there, arms hanging by his sides, watching as the petite Asian uses her well manicured fingernail to tear open the envelope. It would seem that whatever was inside, which seems to be just a single piece of paper, is the greatest news since sliced bread.

"Pia... do you... by chance... happen to know what THIS is? Hmmm? Do you?"

A simple shake of the head, from side to side, gives his answer.

"Pfft, didn't think you did... seriously, you are hopeless." Turning the paper around, she shoves it in his face, causing him to flinch, and as if five seconds flat were enough to absorb the document, she pulls it away. "Don't you get it? These are your orders! Your destiny has been revealed! It's finally happened!"

What? Destiny?

The very thing he had been waiting for has finally come to fruition, and all of it, in great detail, was on this piece of paper, now neatly folded, resting on the counter.

"Ooooh, shit!" Aiko's sudden outburst snaps his attention away from the document, green eyes now fixated on her panicking form, watching as she quickly grabs a cup of coffee for the proverbial heavenly road. "I totally forgot, I have this lunch date with Gandhi. Fucker gets cranky if he doesn't get his brunch on time."

"You... you know Gandhi?" Mr. Coffee just has to ask.

Rolling her eyes, she simply comes around the other side of the counter, stopping to put her right hand on his right shoulder. A brief moment of comforting from an otherwise uncomfortable relationship. "Know him? He owes me $20..." And then she is gone.

Silence. A feeling like a tornado had just blown through, Pia is left standing there, green eyes blinking as he once again stares at the holy document. Slowly, but surely, his right hand reaches for the folded paper, and just before his fingertips make contact with the document, there is another voice coming from behind him.

"Yo, you open? I need some coffee," a young man declares, snapping Pia out of his daze. Work was calling, and it was once again time to return to the comfort, the routine of the coffee industry. Still, as he goes about preparing the mocha latte for the yuppie customer, his eyes can't help but linger on the folded piece of paper. Was this truly a clear spelling out of his destiny? Was he really going to know what was in store for him?

It's only after the customer leaves that he, finally, gets to the document, unfolding it, with an eager sense of excitement, that simply falls away from him, replaced with an empty feeling in his belly, as he studies the heavenly memo. The water from the street had completely saturated the ink, leaving long smears down the length of the paper. Nothing but a few words could be made out. Three words, to be precise. "You" along with "Divine Retribution."

Yes, this is very exciting, indeed. So much for the comfort of routine.