Donovan banged on the door harder. No one had answered after ringing the door-bell except for some dogs. Or when he knocked. In case the bell was broken. Or when he’d knocked again to be heard over the dogs’ barking. However, he wasn’t giving up yet. There was a car in the drive way.

The door opened a crack and Mr. Henderson (at least according to the male box) peaked out.

“Can I help you?” he asked with an irritated tone. Behind two dogs jumped and howled. One was Doberman. Though from what knew of hounds she was only excited to see a stranger.

“Yes sir,” despite the verbiage his tone wasn’t particularly deferential. “I’m lookin’ work and I noticed your yard could use some work…,”

“Can’t you read,” Henderson pointed at the ‘No Soliciting’ sign next to the door, and moved to close the door.

Luckily, Donovan was quicker. Though putting your foot in a closing door was more painful than most things made it out to be. At least this Henderson fellow hadn’t opened too far. With enough leverage you could break a bone. Though he still winced when the wood hit. It was why he’d worn boots.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Henderson’s voice took on a threatening tone.

Donovan really was looking for work. However, more often than not, most people weren’t interested in hiring a gardener. So, he figured, why not get some glamour in the process.

“Sir,” never had a deferential title sounded less respectful “I’m offerin’ to help clean up your shit heap of a yard.” Donovan gritted his teeth as he felt the door pinch hard. ”First hours free.” Still had to hope he might make a ‘sale’. “If you ain’t satisfied I’ll move on.”

“Ain’t interested.” ‘Henderson’ opened the door, apparently thinking that Donovan would run thinking the dogs chase. Which of course they would. If he ran. Instead he knelt, hand out, and was mauled by canines. With wet kisses.

“Well keep me in mind,” he said with a smirk, feeding off the superiority and rage rolling of ‘Mister Henderson’. As the Woodwalker pet his dogs.