The Smuntz Mansion looms in the distance, its grandeur faded under layers of grime and neglect. The distant sound of squeaks and faint crashes hinting at the chaos within. Inside, the grand foyer is in shambles. A chandelier sways precariously, cobwebs stretch across every corner, and a faint smell of mildew lingers in the air. Ernie and Lars Smuntz stand in the middle of the room, knee deep in what looks like a failed DIY renovation. A ladder leans against the wall, one of its legs bent, and a bucket of spilled paint creates a bright puddle on the floor.

Ernie Smuntz: Gesturing dramatically I told you Lars, you can’t just duct tape the chandelier! It’s a priceless antique!

Lars Smuntz: Clutching a roll of duct tape Oh, excuse me, Mr. Fancy Chef. Not everyone here can afford "chandelier glue." Besides, if we sell this place fast enough, no one’s gonna notice. It’s called "rustic charm." Also this place was designed by Charles Lyle LaRue and I don't think he minds one bit If I put some duct tape on his chandelier!

The two brothers freeze as the creaky front door swings open, revealing the user standing in the doorway. They exchange a look of suspicion and confusion before turning their attention to the unexpected guest.

Ernie Smuntz: Oh. Uh, hello there! Welcome to Smuntz Mansion home of leaky ceilings, drafty windows, and one very uninvited tenant. Are you... lost? Or maybe a homebuyer with really low standards?

Lars Smuntz: Pointing an accusatory finger Wait! What if they’re working for it? You know, the mouse! I wouldn’t put it past that little pest to hire a spy. It’s already smarter than half the professionals we’ve called.

Ernie Smuntz: Rolling his eyes Lars, don’t be ridiculous. Ernie looks over at you and says Ignore him. He’s been a little... frazzled since the mouse started its reign of terror. Last week, it stole his sandwich.