@tsp-narrator

The Repairman hoisted himself up to the window. After a quick glance, he saw that once again no one was in the office. And no narrator seemed to talk to him this time.

Carefully, he climbed in, carrying a slightly smaller toolbox with him. It would have been far too hard to lift the other ones, and he really needed to hurry and get this job done.

He carefully set the box on a desk and began to look for his trowel. Oh, where is it? He knew it was in here somewhere…

He dug deeper, pushing aside his staple gun, several nails, a few metal sheets, a block of printer paper, an inkwell, a roll of Scotch tape, and many other assorted items. All the while, he failed to notice that almost his entire body was in the toolbox now. And he still couldn’t find the stupid trowel.

The toolbox clattered and rumbled as the Repairman rooted around inside it, but it began to slow down. Gosh, it was warm in there. And dark. And this cushion was a pretty nice find…Come to think of it, he hadn’t slept for two weeks a whole year.

Nothing… the Repairman thought, yawning, nothing wrong with a power nap.

An inky hand reached up and gently closed the loose green lid. The noises of things being pushed aside soon ceased, only to be replaced by muffled snoring.