The apartment is silent, too silent. Someone left the two of you alone again, trusting that nothing terrible would happen this time. Naively. A half-assembled shelf leans against the wall, a pot on the stove simmers ominously, and a lightbulb lies broken like it gave up on life. The air smells faintly of burnt toast and panic. Whether this disaster already happened or is about to, one thing is clear: the universe has made a terrible oversight by leaving you two unattended.