13 -
"Now this looks much more like a Ford house ... er ... flat." dragon surveyed the room stacked with newspapers, books and electronics before indulging in a round of sneezing.
"We're out of spray paint," Louise pointed out, having been briefed by the SQAddict.
dragon looked thoughtful, shoved her glasses up her nose and sneezed them down again. "I thig he deeds a houze cleandingd." She blew her nose and pulled out a mask like they issue to flu sufferers who insist on going to work.
"I hate housework," Louise pointed out as she was handed a feather duster.
"Rearrange the bookcases and make sure we can bring the others in?"
thought "OK."
They managed to rearrange and aphabetize Ford's library before he returned to his flat. They gave him a breezy hello in passing as they exited the flat and ran down the stairs with a clatter of stilleto heels (dragon)and a gale of giggles. Luckily, they stopped at the landing, waved and folded out before Ford could do more than pull his gun and drop his jaw.
Somewhat like Gay, he was bemused. Someone had added four luminescently flourescent bookcases to his living area. They'd also neatly put everything in the bookcases, including all the newspapers and scandal rags he grabbed every week to see if they were missing anything. On the coffee table, which had been polished to a deep rich finish, was a book. Throwing caution to the winds, he opened it. The book was neatly divided into categories and a typed list of every readable item he owned was attached to the pages.
And there was a note.
"Cold beer in the 'fridge. Hope you like it cold. It's imported."
He couldn't resist. Yes, it was imported. There was a 6 pack of a distinctly American beer sitting on the shelf next to a delivered pizza that was good three weeks ago.
He popped a beer and let it slide down his throat in one long pull. Not that he liked chilled beer, of course, but that was good.