For a second, I'm speechless. But then it clicks. The boss is just being the boss – always on point with the niceties. Thanking me for being Happy's personal pooper scooper, and for bringing my A-game to the company.

Talk about killing two birds with one stone!

Tom must've noticed I looked a little down in the dumps, so he tries to cheer me up. "Oh, and Mr. Black mentioned your birthday's coming up in a couple days. He said he'd try his best to make it back so he and Happy can throw you a little party."

On my birthday, Noah actually showed up, Happy in tow, to throw me a little shindig at my apartment. I was so touched, I turned into a human sprinkler.

This capitalist bigwig thought of everything - cake, wine, the works.

And get this - for my birthday gift? Car keys. To a BMW Mini.

You know what they sometimes call those? The "side chick mobile."

I was a bit confused. Didn't take the keys right away, just looked at him like, "Uh, I'm just the poop scooper, remember?"

Noah's face was as readable as a poker champ's. "It'll make it easier to take Happy out. He's getting chunkier by the day. You can't lug him around forever."

Oh, right! That made sense. I happily pocketed the keys.

Talk about a generous boss!

He even played bartender, pouring the wine. I drank like a fish, he sipped like a bird.

A few glasses in, and I'm talking like my tongue's doing somersaults.

He furrows his brow. "Drinking at home is fine, but lay off the booze when you're out. Don't you know your own limit?"

Huh? Since when did the boss become such a chatterbox?

I was too happy to care. Who made him the boss of... oh wait, he is the boss.

Noah's head started looking as big as a beach ball. I shook my head hard and rubbed my eyes.

Next thing I know, I'm face-planting on the table. Pretty sure Noah helped me to my room.

I think I saw Happy coming over to nuzzle my face. Felt nice, tasted good.

I was too zonked to keep my eyes open, but I caught a whiff of something funky.

"Noah... Happy... pooped..."