After spending some time with Ada yesterday, Dante was right back to his old self - or at least close enough to fake it. He was sitting in the lobby with his feet up on the desk and a large boombox sitting next to him, blasting a cheap
Best of Electro-Industrial CD so loudly it drowned out any music the island was trying to throw on in the background.
Next to the boombox sat a pile of tickets, and the ballot box for
prom court voting. Because allegedly he was here to do a job.