3- Sinking Supsicion
Griffin walked in. "Salem, I've been noticing something. Every time I leave the house, the house is clean."
"Care to test that theory?" Salem asked.
Griffin toppled over a bag of cookie crumbs onto the floor.
Clothilde sighed. She and Maestro sat in the bedroom.
"Brunhilde, my grandmodel, used to clean up in the Berlin Opera house." Clothilde admitted. "She knew all those arias by heart and would sing them as she cleaned."
Maestro chuckled. "I was used in many a soiree in the thirties."
Fantine appeared in the doorway. "Crumbs in the living room."
Clothilde paused. "Oh, I'm sorry, I have vacuum duties."
The living room lamp, a freaky five-headed creature calling herself Hydra, looked at the pile.
"He thinks something's up," the middle head said.
"Yeah, houses don't get this clean. Unless..."
"Me?" Clothilde asked.
All five heads nodded.
Clothilde cleaned up the mess.
Griffin returned home. "See? No mess." He paused. "You know, I've heard this old story about sentient home appliances." He glanced towards the game room. "What if the haunted lamp really isn't haunted..."
