The humans’ home is comfortable enough, but it isn’t new, and bits of it are in need of repair. Case in point: the ceiling fan in the parlor is possessed of a four-lamp light fixture that has begun to “eat” light bulbs at an alarming rate. With a little coaching from me, it has developed a taste for the really expensive 100-wattcompact fluorescent ones that, even sucked dry of all life, present a toxic waste hazard that gives everyone the twitches for fear they may break.
Therefore, the humans have enlisted the help of a friend in an attempt to detach the light-kit and fix or replace it. I am lending my aid as well, because that’s just the sort of helpful fellow I am.
The tubular brass arms are reminiscent of a wind instrument. How baroque. Hmm. I do not think the switch is at fault.
And I am reasonably certain they will find no fault in the bird’s nest of wiring. Yet.
Remind me… Is the black wire the ground?
Or is it the white one? And did I mention that I learned a few tricks from Thor and can short out puny Midgardian wires like this with a mere thought? Zap! There goes another one! Aw. That is most regrettable–the humans will have to go and buy a whole new light kit.
These are the fancy, scallopy light shades from the old fixture.
Fancy, but boring. Everyone has these. Dare I hope the humans will choose something sleek and a little more modern?
Ah. They have returned from the hardware store. Now this is more like it! Smooth and alabasterine and not at all scallopy. I approve, but I will not tell them that.
Here is the new lighting fixture. Not as curly and hunting-hornish as the other.
It also appears to have simpler wiring. Should I summon another zap? No, wait! I have a better idea. (And by “better” I mean, “More likely to cause tooth-gnashing and the exchange of blame-filled rants among the humans.”)
Oh, look, the new light kit actually comes *with* bulbs. Convenient, that.
Let me see if I can read the wattage on one of them. Ehehehehehehehe! I think I can do better!
There now! Forty watts maximum! All four together will scarcely be equal to one of the old lights! Ha! Let darkness and chaos reign!
Back up the old fixture goes, for now. Other than making the mortals go up and down the ladder and to and from the hardware store, the best part of this, the final indignity, is that they’ll need the receipt to return that new business, and I have already put it away someplace very, very safe. Safe safe safe. Soooo safe. I mean, what could possibly be safer than the pile of already-entered-into-the-checkbook receipts that are headed for the shredder?