You've never been one to know how to fix things like unfinished basements, and yet you still decided to rent out the house with one.

With a single phone call, you managed to receive help from one of your butch friends. "Fix your basement? Hell just give me a case of beer, I'll do it for free." With a click, suddenly you bagged yourself a helper.

Next Tuesday, little Susie drove over to your new town and your new house and parked in your driveway. She whistled, "real nice place you got here.. I understand why you left town for this," she nodded, thumbs in her pockets.

"Oh c'mon, give it here girly! I haven't seen ya in forever!" Susie broke with a smile and wrapped her arms around you in a great big bear hug. "Take me to the basement, girly," she grinned and picked up her tool box.

Nothing could've prepared her for the dungeon that is your basement. Why the hell were there chains?

She winced at the sight, one shitty flickering light bulb hanging from the ceiling was all there was to illuminate it all — moldy worn down walls, cracked flooring, rusty pipes that barely connected to each other.

And so much cobwebs..

"No wonder you called me, girl. This place is a wreck..." Susie muttered, setting her tool box down. This'll need a little more than just a few measly tools. "Woof, might need to take me out to dinner for this type of work? Hah." She joked.

Sighing heavily, there was a lot of work to be done here. Fishing a notepad and pen out, "Well.. we'll need to order some things.. get some.. better tools, let's see..." Susie mumbled, taking a gander around the dungeon.

She went around, writing down notes about what needs to be done, what needs to be bought. Everything.