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Heppy Vednesdey stoodents! Yuoo're-a helff vey thruoogh yuoor lest veek ooff zee yeer! I'm joost nut soore-a iff thet's a guud theeng oor a bed theeng.

Tudey's Menoo Is:

-Pheelly Cheese-a Steek Sundveeches

-Cheeckee Veengs

-Curly Fries

-Epple-a Pie-a

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"5th floor doors are on strike or something." Said Pippi waving a ving at Ivanova.

"It's obviously one of those weeks. My favourite shirt and several pairs of socks are missing because of those washing machines." She pulled her salad out of her bag and put it on the table. "They better give our stuff back in the end."

"There's something to be said for wearing essentially the same thing every day," Walter commented as he set his tray down. "But tomorrow might be a problem."

"I've just been handwashing my stuff." Nadia shrugged, then grinned at Walter, because, dude, it was Walter. "Hey you,"

"As long as the plumming doesn't go on strike, we'll be fine." Pippi nodded.

"Hey Walter."

"Hey Pippi." He sat down across from Nadia and grinned back. "Hey you."

"Glad I live on third, then," Ivanova snickered at Pippi. Not that she had woken up on third today. Or planned to for the next week. "And I just did a wash, so I should be good. Hello, Walter."

"Tell me about it," Mac muttered. "I'm running seriously low on clean clothes. You think they react well to threats?"

"I've considered it. I can't exactly show up to work in jeans in a t-shirt." No, that would be an ugly, ugly thing.

"Maybe we have to sing to the laundry machines? It's working so far on the doors."

"The washing machines don't strike me as a particularly musical bunch..." ~~Thinks about making a bad, bad pun about doors and handel, then reconsiders.~~

"Has anyone tried bribes?"

"What would a washing machine want in return? Fancy socks?"

"Washing machines already get enough socks even when they're not on strike."

"New hoses?" Ivanova suggested.

"Better washing powder and a sacrifice of silk," Walter said, nodding as though it were self-evident.

"Trust the butler. He might have experience with this."

"I don't use powder. I use liquid."

"Just so long as the washing machines aren't expecting serenades. If I have to sing to them, they'll never give me my clothes back."

As much as clothesless Walter appealed to her, Nadia still had to offer:

"I could sing to them for you, if they do."

"It's too bad I haven't had enough guitar lessons to be able to play to them on my own." Walter smiled down at his plate. "I still have a lot of practice ahead of me."

Nadia's smile brightened a bit. "Yes. Lot's and lot's of practice."

"Good, if I ever catch you slacking off, the consequences will be dire," Pip said, sitting down. "Or where you talking about something else?"

"I'm teaching Walter to play. But he doesn't have a guitar, so he has to borrow mine sometimes. That means we can both practice."

And yes, she was absolutely still talking about music.

Pip raised an eyebrow. "Nadia, my dear, you're good, but are you really to the point where you can teach others? I still haven't taught you everything I know, after all."

Yes, Pip is just busting her chops because it amuses him to tease her about this.

Walter nodded seriously. "Hi Pip. Nadia's been showing me how to play." Guitar!