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Clem did not see what he was doing wrong. Every other time a new occupant came to call Apt. 115, of the Sunny Oaks Retirement Facility, “home”, he was able to give them a good fright that had them requesting a new room. This new guy didn’t seem to notice anything that Clem did, be it turning the water on and off or spinning the ceiling fan at an incredibly fast pace. Clem was doubting his abilities for the first time ever.

Two hours earlier Mr. Richly had been shown to his room. Clem thought it very strange that the old man hadn’t taken his sunglasses off, and when inspecting the living quarters he felt up every single wall. Clem watched from one of the ceiling corners of every room with crossed arms. He took offense to the old man’s gestures, as if the space wasn’t good enough for Mr. Richly or something. Even worse, the nurse showing him around mentioned something about Mr. Richleys dog coming soon! A dog! Clem would not have a dog living here, as if Mr. Richley’s arrogancy wasn’t enough.

After the nurse left, Mr. Richly took a bumpy piece of paper out of his pocket with a picture of the retirement home on it and felt all the little bumps on it. Clem was very confused and after a while noticed himself chiming the question, “What the heck is this guy up to?”, over and over in his head. After a few antics, like picking up a magazine off the table and waving it around, and no response from Mr. Richley, Clem gave up. With his easy defeat behind him, Clem floated through one of the walls, into the corridor, and through another wall across the hallway. Before him sat an old woman with glasses on her nose holding a pair of knitting needles, yarn in her lap. Clem smiled. In a few minutes his confidence was restored. “This is definitely my new home,” Clem decided with a sly smirk upon his face.