Somewhere, West Virginia, USA.

Morty, the sisters, and the Colonel stood before a workshop, or forge. Morty wasn't sure exactly what it was. When his army was first getting on its feet a small forge was thrown together to do repairs or fixes for things like broken bayonets or even stitching uniforms from the bits of cloth they got from their extortion.

As the army grew, so too did the forge/workshop. It was here that the vehicles they got from the union workers and Bill were chopped. Some bits were melted down and used to make new armaments or to fix others. But others were left to be tinkered with in what was about the only time the greenskins worked together, though Morty would use the term "worked" loosely.

It was basically some of the serving staff, and the odd gardener who had a better mind for thinking past what would the hedges look like now, a couple Red Caps, some general grunts, and plenty of disposable dragues.

Apparently some of the serving staff weren't content to learn the finery of being a household servant. They all took shifts reading through the Duval's large, and before them rarely used, library. They would pour over things and use it as a way to liven up meal times with light banter.

But some took to certain things and sought to learn more of it. So Morty offered them the forge/workshop to both nurture their tinkering and keep them from irritating him with their incessant nonsense. A, now dubbed artisan/tinker/whatever, goblin was in charge of thinking and planning that went on in the workforge with plenty of the dragues to do all the manual/dangerous work.

A couple Red Caps were in charge of keeping in-line both the grunts that were stationed to keep guard so that they weren't interrupted as well as the small but readily replaceable workforce of dragues.

For a time it was working, he even had this set up as their main base expanded south and towards the deposits of iron, lead, and stone. Even as the woods were clear-cut this was how things were being done. Smart goblin to plan, Red Cap to enforce, grunts to guard, and dragues to work.

It was all going pretty good, though Morty had to downgrade the dragues equipment as anything more than basic handsaws or axes were totaled from their weakness and failure to handle them properly. Which meant that the clearing of the woods was slow going, but it was going.

Which also resulted in the expansion of the workforge with a sawmill. Logs would be trimmed where they fell then hauled over to be processed into planks, which would then be used to either refurbish the mansion, build new lodgings for the Red Caps, or were in the process of being secured and sold.

He would sell them to stores under his influence at a pittance of a cost. They in turn would sell them out of town for a huge profit. It wasn't a great volume but it kept his part of town above water until they can begin exploiting those deposits. This kept the town going as well as incentivize others to accept his influence as they'll not only get protection from the ferals but as well as access to materials that they could use to stay financially afloat!

Though that wouldn't last as his men were in the process of working up plans to scrub the feral nests, and as soon as the town was fully under his control then he would up the prices so that he'll start making a fortune again.

Then the workforge caught fire. Morty didn't know the how or why, just that he was greatly annoyed by the interruption in their supply line! He was finally on the path to turning a profit and someone torched the place!

A boom sounded from inside and a goblin came screaming out of the roof of the building and cratered a couple yards from them. The rest of the army had mostly stopped what they were doing as a fire brigade was set up to quell the flames.

"So... Want to tell me how this happened?" Morty asked the goblin that was covered in soot, and slightly burnt, that was next to him.

"Well, Master, we were tinkerin', like you allowed!" The goblin stated. Though a glare from the four silenced any lip.

"Anyway, we were tinkerin' then someone, one of the dragues no doubt, did somethin' they weren't supposed to! And... well?" He gestured to the burning building.

As much as Morty wanted him beaten he actually had a point. The dragues weren't good for skilled or technical labor. They were for degrading and dangerous menial tasks that required little, if any, thinking and plenty of bodies to replace them when they died from accidents, back-stabbing, or just being overworked.

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Such as now.

Morty expelled a breath in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a moment to think. That workshop/forge/sawmill/whatever structural abomination it was needed to start working again!

"Just get it put out and up and running again! We don't have the time nor money to waste!"

The smart goblin nodded and left, leaving Morty to return to the mansion to plan something else. The Fall Ball! It was something his family did back in Louisiana and even here when they relocated. It was pretty much a fancy get-together to schmooze the local elite and curry favors and work out deals behind closed doors.

Which meant that he needed to pull it off. If he can keep the locals under his thumb from both the local level as well as the bureaucratic level then his control will all the more secured!

Morty doubt that the Mayor or council would come in friendship. But given as his grip tightened more and more everyday and the Mayor and council were slow to react, if they were at all, they had no choice! They'll come and play nice, then proceed to beg him for help!

Help he would string along as he bled them dry as he made them little more than puppets! It didn't actually matter if they showed up and played nice. It was all obvious which way the wind was blowing and they would be fools to not see that kissing his ass was the way forward!

His thoughts of grandeur were interrupted as a knock came from the door. Normally the head butler goblin would answer it, but he was in a good mood right now and decided to answer it himself! He pulled the door open with a greeting, and saw two men in black suits on the other side.

"Evening sir! We're Special Agents Smith and Doe! We are with the Internal Revenue Service and we'd like to discuss a few things with you!"

Morty's blood ran cold and took a moment to think of a response. A response that came out more as stuttering gibberish.

"W-w-w-w-would y-y-you l-l-l-"

"Of course! Thank you very much son!" Agent Smith thanked Morty as him and Agent Doe brushed past the still stuttering Morty and looked around the foyer, and the various greenskins that had congregated to see who was at the door.

"Interesting." Smith stated as he took note of the creatures. Small and greenskinned, just like the man said.

He had Doe take actual notes of the various different species they saw while Smith looked at the two giant women that hovered protectively near Morty.

"Very interesting."

Morty's brain finally clicked together and he closed the door and plastered a shaky smile on his face as he tried to be a VERY gracious host.

"Would either of you like a drink? Water? Liquor?"

"No thank you! We wont stay long, just to confirm a few things and we'll be on our way!" Smith said as Doe continued to write down the specifics of all the greenskins and the sisters. Smith had stepped away from Morty and pulled the tape recorder out and began to talk into it.

"Initial reports are more than confirmed as several variances are in obvious view."

Morty didn't hear much after that though. His mind was elsewhere, like what they could be talking about, and what it was they were writing down! What reports?! What was obvious?! Everything was legal... sorta. It wasn't even tax day yet!

Someone in town had snitched didn't they, Morty thought as many things flew through his mind as he tried to figure a way to placate the IRS agents. But few came to mind. Well, many came to mind but most wouldn't be smart. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't notice Smith was talking to him.

"Son? Is one Dion Duval here this evening?" Smith asked.

"Uhm, no. He passed recently." Morty answered as calmly as he could, though he was sweating bullets.

"Oh? How long ago did this happen?"

"A couple weeks ago. The death of my grandfather caused my father's health to rapidly decline not long after." Which wasn't a lie.

"Dion and Jermaine were your family?"

"Yes, that's right."

Smith held a stony expression before breaking out in a smile.

"That makes you Mortimer then! Me and your grandfather had some business back in the day!"

"You did?" Morty asked as he was caught off guard by the sudden familiarity.

"Of course! Pulled this IRS trick with him back then too! He got a real kick out of it! Your father never really cared for it though."

"So your not with the government?" Morty asked, though he wasn't sure whether to be worried or relieved.

"Oh no, we ARE with the government. But we aren't here about your finances."

"Then what are you here for?"

"Top secret I'm afraid. Though if I could ask a few questions then we'll be out of your hair soon enough."

"Yeah I guess I could."

Morty showed them to the dining room and called for refreshments.

"Ok. First off, may I ask where your employees came from?"

"Uhm... The Philippines?" Morty said uncertainly. Which also wasn't a complete lie. He only knew they came from another world. But he didn't know what it was called, and didn't care to.

"Oh?!" Smith exclaimed and turned towards a butler as he placed a bottle of bourbon and a plate of bleeding venison with some peas and potatoes.

"Kamusta ka? Tinatangkilik ang ating bansa?"

"How are you? Enjoying our country?"

The goblin looked at Smith blankly before looking at Morty, unsure what to do as the man spoke a strange language to him.

"Nod!" Morty hissed out the corner of his mouth.

The goblin butler nodded towards Smith. Smith chuckled.

"Hindi mo naman siguro naiintindihan ang sinasabi ko diba?"

"You probably don't understand what I'm even saying, right?"

The goblin just continued to smile awkwardly and nod. Smith spoke a couple for words in Tagalog before turning his attention back to Morty.

"Great! Are you aware of any other itinerant workers that have recently showed up?"

"Uhm, not that I can think of. Though a friend is staying with some new arrivals."

"How new?"

"A few weeks I think?"

"Can you describe them?"

"Short and round."

"Short and round?"

"Yeah."

"That's it? May I ask WHERE these Short Rounds are?"

"A plot of farmland south of town."

Though Smith believed this to be a wild goose chase, he wrote down the vague description and the equally vague directions. Then again, small red lizard people, and now short greenskinned people? The idea that these short and round people might still be a result of the anomalies weren't that far-fetched.

While Smith wanted to press for a bit more information, he decided it was time to go as the two giant women that continued to flank Morty glared at him the longer they stayed. So with a simple goodbye him and Doe left the Duval Estate, more informed and with a possible new lead to follow.

Morty didn't breathe until he saw their black car pull out the gate. He thought he had more time before the government came sniffing about. Then again he said he knew his grandfather. But that didn't mean it was a good thing.

He needed the Mayor and them in his pocket yesterday! He called the serving staff together and told them to begin preparations for the Fall Ball!