"Hit it!" shotued a voice, and dance music began playing.
Dr. Crygor was dancing alone in his lab, a ritual he enjoyed thoroughly. He twirled around in circles as he worked his way towards his living quarters. As he passed a hall table, he plucked a rose from the vase, placed it in his mouth, grabbed a mop against the wall and twirled it about.
"We have a party tonight, Baretta," he said to the mop through clenched teeth. "There will be dancing, pretty ladies, and festive music. I must prepare myself." He reached his door, rested the mop against the wall, stuck the rose in the threads, bowed to it, and hustled inside.
"Formal wear!" he declared loudly, clapping his hands, and a closet-sized room dropped from the ceiling, the blast doors first sliding open, followed by the normal doors.
"Hmm… what should I wear?" he thought aloud, pushing some hangers aside. He finally selected a tuxedo, and removed it from the closet.
"Retract!" he said, clapping again. The doors and blast doors slid shut, and the closet retreated into the ceiling. He snapped his fingers, and a large robot rolled over to him on what looked like small tank treads.
"Exlabber," he said, passing the tuxedo to it, "Prepare this for me to put at 1600 hours."
"Yes, sir," the robot replied in a mechanical voice, taking the suit and scooting off.
"Time to get ready!" Crygor said with glee, skipping over to a circle drawn on the side of his room. He stood in the middle of this circle and pulled a handle on the wall next to him.
With a woosh, the floor underneath him lifted him up through the ceiling and placed him on a conveyor belt.
"Stand facing forward please, your excellency." Said a mechanical voice. As the conveyor belt moved Dr. Crygor forward, a claw on the end of an arm came down from the ceiling and removed his visor, and a pair of vacuum tubes sucked off his yellow suit. He reached the end of the belt, and the ground beneath him dropped away, and landed him on a long, blue slide, which ended in a bathtub.
The bathtub filled up with water by itself, and a pair of mechanical claws washed Crygor's body while another shampooed his hair. Within two minutes he was done, and the drain in the tub expanded several times, and spinning like a top, Crygor was sucked down into a long tube that placed him on another conveyor belt, this one lying at a diagonally-down angle.
He slid comfortably into a waiting pair of rose-decorated boxer shorts, then into the tuxedo pants. The belt placed him upright, and the mechanical arms put his shirt and vest on, and draped the jacket around him.
"You look smashing, sir," said the mechanical voice over the intercom.
"Thank you, McClean," Crygor said. "Now, all I have to do is finish Wario's lighting device."
He strolled back into the main laboratory where the device—which was shaped like a disco ball, but upright—was sitting on the table. "The problem is, I accidentally built it upside down. It needs to hang from the ceiling." He pondered the problem for many monents, before snapping his fingers. "Of course! The Gravitator!"
The Gravitator was an experimental device he was working on at Wario's request. All Wario said was that it would be used in the next Game Boy Advance game.
Crygor put the lighting unit in the Gravitator and set the controls for one 180 degree turn. The Gravitor began rumbling and shaking, making a horrid screeching sound. Finally, it dinged, and the hatch opened to show the lighting device, now facing the proper direction.
"I'm a genius!" Crygor declared, jumping for joy. "And now," he said, taking the device carefully from the Gravitator, "We must hasten! Party time in 30 minutes!"