"So this is nice," Oliver Truman fixed a smile on his face from his position at head of the breakfast table and considered his empire.

Three children.

One grandchild.

One son-in-law.

And a Milagra.

It wasn't a bad showing for sixty years on the planet. He could take or leave the Milagra but, other than that, there really wasn't much to complain about. He was quite excited about the start of his sixtieth birthday weekend extravaganza, but no one else seemed to be.

His oldest child Sam was sweating through his t-shirt as though he had just run a marathon; his daughter Lyla and son-in-law Carter had bustled in a couple of minutes ago glaring daggers at each other; his youngest son Jared was fiddling with a suspicious looking bulge in his pocket; and neither Milagra nor his grandchild Cornelius were anywhere in sight which, in his experience, was dangerous.

Carter piped up. "I would say sorry we were late but you're all pretty familiar with Lyla here so it's – HOLY SHIT," he trailed off, wincing. "Sorry," he addressed the confused table. "Just kicked myself in the shin." He scowled at his wife.

"Everything alright…?" Sam muttered to his sister out of the corner of his mouth although, unluckily, not far enough out of Carter's ear-shot.

"Absolutely," Lyla replied, her white knuckle grip on her mug of green tea the only clue that this was perhaps not the case.

Carter snorted. He bit into a sausage sandwich and promptly swore when a dollop of ketchup slipped out the bottom onto his shirt.

Jared opened his mouth to say something that would probably have made the situation worse, but was interrupted by his father. "Who wants some more coffee…?"

"Me, please," Sam held his cup out, head bowed. "Cornelius has been up since six this morning."

"Where is the little bugger anyway…?" Jared asked.

In the distance there was a crash.

Sam swore under his breath and jumped out of his chair with a clatter.

Oliver pressed his lips together and sighed. All in all it could be worse. He suspected there might be some real fireworks when the Truman children found out his real plans for the weekend.