The door was flung open, crashing into the wall with a bang.

A large, charwomanly figure entered, followed by a bevy of less imposing women armed with rags, mops, and pails. “Gentlemen, housekeeping has arrived!”

The denizens of the room (those who had woken up) protested. Gravitcher, the lead artifector (inasmuch as they could be said to have one), approached the battleaxe and lied, “Madam, we have important experiments underway that cannot be disturbed. Pray be gone.”

“Sir, I am tasked by the Masters of this abode with cleaning each and every room at least once a year. I will execute my charge, and for this room today is that day.” She gestured. The women spread through the room, cleaning and (gasp!) moving things. It was intolerable and the artifectors were appalled to a man.

Spamblodgett beckoned to one buxom young woman. “Would you clean the interior of this cabinet, please?” She smiled and entered. He muttered to himself as he twiddled some dials, "Five minutes ago… " He pressed a button.