The Lint Pirates' Lair

The whirring of the ‘Rusty Bucket’ was usually a comforting drone to Gleep, a familiar song of well-oiled gears and slightly-singed wiring. Today, however, it was accompanied by the frantic, high-pitched squeaks of Princess Astra attempting to “help” organize the tool bench. Tools, which Gleep had painstakingly arranged by size, function, and existential dread, were now scattered like a meteor shower of wrenches and spanners.

“Are you quite sure, Princess,” Gleep grumbled, his voice a low rumble from beneath a particularly greasy engine part, “that a sonic screwdriver is best used as a maraca?”

Astra, suspended upside down by a stray magnetic boot, giggled. “It makes a delightful *zing*! And besides,” she added, her voice slightly muffled by the sudden influx of air into her nostrils, “isn’t organizing supposed to be… fun?”