The next day, Allen marched right up to Tippy Doorman, his eyes intense with determination. Tippy, always polite and well-mannered, greeted him with a warm smile.

"Good day, Officer Allen. How can I assist you?" Tippy asked, his posture impeccable.

Without missing a beat, Allen began bombarding him with questions. "Did you see a girl that looked like Mia pass by here recently? When was the last time you saw her? Did she talk to anyone? Did anything unusual happen?"

Clemmons, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire questioning, interjected. "He's trying to ask if you saw Mia."

Allen shot him a look. "I did not ask that! I asked if a girl that looked like Mia passed by. That's different."

Clemmons raised an eyebrow. "That's the same thing, Allen."

"It is not!" Allen insisted, turning back to Tippy, who was patiently waiting.

Tippy cleared his throat, maintaining his calm demeanor. "I understand your concern, Officer Allen. I did see a girl who matches Mia's description a few days ago. She seemed a bit flustered, but she didn't speak to anyone. She just passed through the lobby quickly."

Allen's eyes narrowed. "Did she leave with anyone? Did you notice any suspicious activity around her?"

Tippy shook his head. "No, she was alone, and there was nothing out of the ordinary. I did notice she seemed to be in a hurry."

Allen sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks, Tippy. If you see her again, or anything suspicious, let us know immediately."

"Of course, Officer Allen," Tippy replied with a courteous nod.

As they walked away, Clemmons glanced at Allen. "See? We're making progress. We'll find her."

Allen's face softened slightly. "I hope so. Every clue counts."

Clemmons smirked. "And maybe try to take it easy on the questions next time. We don't want to scare everyone off."

Allen rolled his eyes but couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, maybe you're right. Let's keep looking."

As they walked down the sidewalk, they suddenly heard a strange commotion. Following the noise, they found Buster stuck in a tree, juggling a beehive. Don't ask how he got there—it was just Buster being Buster.

Allen took one look at the scene, his eyes widening in disbelief, and promptly fainted, collapsing to the ground. Clemmons, seeing Allen go down, began yelling frantically, "Buster! What are you doing up there? And why are you juggling a beehive?!"

Buster, balancing precariously on a branch, could only gesture wildly, his face a mix of apology and desperation.

Clemmons threw his hands up in exasperation. "Get down from there before you get stung!"

Buster, unable to respond verbally, pointed to his feet, showing he was stuck. The beehive wobbled dangerously in his hands.

Clemmons looked around, trying to figure out a way to help his brother without getting everyone stung by angry bees. "Hold on, Buster! Just... stay still!"

As Clemmons tried to figure out a plan, a few curious onlookers gathered, watching the bizarre spectacle unfold. One of them, an elderly woman with a shopping cart, shook her head and muttered, "Kids these days..."

Clemmons finally spotted a long branch that might help. He grabbed it and cautiously approached the tree, trying to avoid any sudden movements that might disturb the bees. "Okay, Buster, I'm going to try to push you down gently. Just hold on tight!"

Buster nodded vigorously, his face pale with fear.

With great care, Clemmons maneuvered the branch, slowly nudging Buster down from the tree. The beehive teetered, but somehow, miraculously, Buster managed to keep it from falling.

Finally, Buster was close enough to the ground to jump down safely. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he dropped the beehive and ran. The bees, surprisingly, seemed more interested in their hive than in chasing after him.

Clemmons rushed over to Allen, who was starting to come to. "Are you okay, Allen?"

Allen groaned, sitting up slowly. "What happened?"

Clemmons pointed to Buster, who was catching his breath a few feet away. "Our brother decided to take up beekeeping. In a tree. While juggling."

Allen shook his head, looking from Clemmons to Buster and back again. "I think I need another nap."

Clemmons helped Allen to his feet, and they both walked over to Buster, who gave them an embarrassed grin and signed a quick apology.

Allen managed a small smile. "Just try not to give me a heart attack next time, okay?"

Buster nodded emphatically, his expression full of contrition.

"Deal," Allen replied, and they all headed home, hoping for a bit of normalcy after the day's bizarre events.

To their surprise, when they arrived home, Allen, Clemmons, and Buster were greeted by an even more bizarre sight: Duke and Freya were in the front yard, juggling a car while balancing on pogo sticks. It was an almost surreal scene, with the car somehow staying airborne between the two of them as they bounced up and down.

Allen stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide with disbelief. "Really?!"

Clemmons blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining things. "Are we sure we didn't walk into a circus?"

Buster just stood there, mouth agape, shaking his head slowly.

Duke, still bouncing, noticed them and called out cheerfully, "Hey, boys! Just trying something new! Keeps the mind sharp!"

Freya, equally enthusiastic, added, "Yeah, and it's great exercise!"

Allen facepalmed, sighing deeply. "Is there any chance we could have one normal day? Just one?"

Clemmons laughed, patting Allen on the back. "With this family? Not a chance."

Finally, Freya and Duke carefully lowered the car to the ground and hopped off their pogo sticks. "Alright, that's enough fun for now," Duke said, wiping sweat from his brow. "How was your day?"

Allen just shook his head again, a mix of exhaustion and amusement on his face. "Let's just say it was eventful. And next time, maybe stick to juggling something a bit lighter, okay?"

Freya chuckled, ruffling Allen's hair. "We'll see what we can do. But remember, a little chaos keeps life interesting!"

Allen couldn't help but laugh, despite himself. "Yeah, well, this family definitely doesn't lack for that."

Once inside, the family settled down, each member going about their usual routines. But one thing stood out starkly: Allen was unusually calm. This was very, very, very creepy to everyone, considering the recent chaos. No panicking or running around yelling with Clemmons.

Allen went straight to the bathroom, filled the tub, and sat in it with his laptop balanced on the edge. The sight was bizarre, but what was even more unsettling was how composed he seemed. There were no outbursts, no frantic pacing—just Allen, methodically typing away, filing reports, and analyzing data to figure out where Mia might be.

Clemmons peered into the bathroom, his eyes wide with concern. "Uh, Allen? You okay in there?"

Allen didn't look up from the screen. "Fine, Clemmons. Just trying to get some work done."

Buster, who had followed Clemmons, mimed knocking on an imaginary door and gave Clemmons a puzzled look. Clemmons nodded, sharing Buster's confusion.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Clemmons pressed. "I mean, you seem...different."

Allen finally looked up, his expression eerily calm. "I'm just focused, Clemmons. Mia's out there, and I need to find her. Every second counts."

Clemmons nodded slowly, backing away from the door. "Right. Well, let us know if you need anything."

As they walked away, Clemmons whispered to Buster, "This is really weird. Allen's never like this."

Buster nodded emphatically, his eyes wide with agreement. He mimed typing on a laptop, then pointed to his head and made a swirling motion with his finger, indicating that he thought Allen might be losing it a bit.

Clemmons sighed. "Let's keep an eye on him. If he doesn't snap out of it soon, we might need to call in some reinforcements. This is just too creepy."

Buster nodded again, and the two of them continued to watch Allen from a distance, hoping that their brother would soon return to his usual, albeit chaotic, self.

Freya and Duke also found Allen's newfound calmness unsettling. They exchanged worried glances as they passed by the bathroom, where Allen continued to sit in the tub with his laptop, focused intently on his work.

"Have you ever seen him like this?" Freya whispered to Duke, her voice tinged with concern.

Duke shook his head. "Never. It's like he's a completely different person. This level of calm isn't natural for him, especially not now."

Freya sighed, wringing her hands. "What should we do? I don't want to push him too hard, but we can't let this go on."

Duke nodded thoughtfully. "We'll keep an eye on him. If he doesn't snap out of it soon, we might need to intervene more directly."

Meanwhile, Allen remained engrossed in his work, oblivious to the concern of his family. He was determined to find Mia, and nothing else mattered at the moment. But the eerie calmness he displayed was unnerving everyone around him.

Clemmons and Buster stood at the doorway, watching Allen. Clemmons leaned over to Buster and whispered, "Even Mom and Dad think this is creepy. We've got to do something."

Buster nodded, miming a thoughtful expression and tapping his chin. He pointed to Allen and then to his own head, indicating that they needed to figure out how to snap Allen out of this state.

Clemmons sighed. "Alright, let's come up with a plan. We can't just leave him like this. Maybe if we get some new leads on Mia, it'll bring back the old Allen."

Buster mimed typing furiously, then held up his hand like a phone, suggesting they make some calls and gather more information.

Clemmons nodded. "Good idea. Let's get to work. For Allen's sake and for Mia's, we need to get to the bottom of this."

Allen's transformation was indeed startling. He ate in the bathroom, maintaining his usual neatness even in such an unusual setting. His meticulous nature extended to every aspect of his new routine. To everyone's surprise, he even consumed peas without having an allergic reaction, a first in the family's memory.

Freya and Duke exchanged another set of worried glances over dinner.

"This is beyond strange," Freya murmured. "Allen has never been able to eat peas without a reaction."

Duke nodded slowly. "It's like he's a completely different person. I've never seen him this... composed. It's almost robotic."

Clemmons and Buster, still strategizing about how to bring Allen back to his usual self, were equally baffled by his latest behavior. Clemmons leaned over to Buster during dinner and whispered, "Have you ever seen him eat peas without choking like crazy?"

Buster shook his head, miming an explosion with his hands to emphasize how unprecedented this was.

Clemmons sighed. "Alright, we really need to do something. Let's call up some of Allen's friends and see if they've noticed anything unusual. Maybe they can help snap him out of this."

Buster nodded, miming making phone calls.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Allen continued his work, seemingly unfazed by anything around him. His laser focus on finding Mia drove him to ignore his family's growing concern. He filed reports, cross-referenced data, and meticulously reviewed every lead. His behavior was efficient but alarmingly out of character.

After dinner, Freya knocked gently on the bathroom door. "Allen, honey, can we talk?"

Allen's voice was calm as he replied, "I'm busy right now, Mom. I'll come out when I have something concrete."

Freya sighed, her worry deepening. "Please, Allen, don't shut us out. We're here to help."

But Allen's silence signaled the end of the conversation.