Housekeeping

Dear Mike, 

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I'll be spending a few days in Tristan da Cunha infiltrating the volcanic lair of professor whatsherface—you know the one—the tech executive that fell into a vat of genetically modified tardigrades. 

 

While I'm gone, your urgent attention is needed at the house. 

As you will see, there was another break in. A team of Moroccan bounty hunters crashed through my bedroom window, and the glass shards destroyed my mulberry silk sheets. I crushed their AK-47s with my bare hands and flushed them down the toilet in the master bathroom. Try to get the clog out. And get me new sheets. 

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Before you vacuum, collect any teeth you find around the house in a Ziploc bag and send them to the Commissioner's office to help identify the bodies. 

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It should go without saying, but I’ll say it anyways, that all Spandex onesies should be hand washed, cold. Thoroughly massage out any stains in baking soda. I can't see another news article commenting on pit stains. It ruins my day. 

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Fill the bucket of salt hanging above the door of the vault. It's a booby trap for the Mollusk Man. I'm storing the Pearl of Lao Tzu for the American Natural History Museum in the vault, and he is bound to show up any day now. The salt should keep him still until I’m back. Also, polish my clam shucker. 

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In the gym, lubricate the Multi-Axis Trainer with WD-40. Make sure to wash and (most importantly) dry all cast iron weights.  I cannot stress enough the importance of completely drying the weights to avoid rusting. Don't use just any microfiber cloth for the job, break out the As Seen on TV ShamWow to dry them. It’s amazing. You can wipe down the yoga mats with my special cleaner blend: one-part distilled water, one-part white vinegar, and a few drops of CBD oil. It's in a plastic soda bottle on the gym shelf next to the ShamWow. Also, buy me another ShamWow. 

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Research the latest ransom note on my couch from the criminal mastermind Captain Cryptogram. I need to know which American president wore the biggest shoes. I don't want to look like an idiot next time I see him. 

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The Manpir (half-man, half-tapir) scratched the hardwood floors in the living room a few days ago. I placated him with a large Hawaiian salad and tied his hoofs together with his prehensile trunk. Moisten the scratches with water and buff them out with a dry cloth. Top it off with some wax while you're at it. 

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Clean the alien slime from the windows. It glows so it's best to do it after sunset. And don't scuff the windowsills this time. 

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At the dock, power wash the barnacles off the yacht from the Russian oligarch that stole an ice cream cone from a toddler in Monaco. I don't remember if there are nuclear warheads on it so avoid pressing buttons. Keys are in the cockpit.

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The giant Venus fly trap on the terrace that was confiscated from Luscious Leaf is fed exclusively human blood. Make sure to prick your finger on Friday and add a few fresh drops of blood into each lobe. Wiggle your finger when you do it, so the plant thinks you're live bait. It's better for the plant if you struggle. 

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Listen to my latest Hypnagogic pop album. It’s in the record player. You need to hear it on vinyl to fully appreciate my personal aesthetic. And I want your honest opinion. Don't let the thought of me withholding your payment stop you from providing constructive criticism. 

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Take Ginger, the miniature giraffe that I rescued from the band of Somali pirates, for a long walk every day. Bring the garden shovel with you as the pooper scooper and add any droppings to the compost heap. Giraffe manure is excellent fertilizer. 

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I want a fully stocked refrigerator when I fly in. Pick up 15 pounds of whey protein powder, 18 T-bone steaks, 100 eggs, and a few of those chocolate pudding cups with the whipped cream on top—I'd kill for those. 

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A few women (Mary, Emma, Anna, Charlotte, Daisy, Julia, Olivia, Jane, Michelle, Sara, and Tina) are recklessly claiming that I'm the father of their children just because their new-borns could bench press 50 pounds. Whatever you do: don't let them in the house! They want my DNA for a paternity test. Make sure to burn any of my hair that you find in my comb, or on the furniture, just in case one of them has the balls to break in. If they come to the door, call my lawyer. 

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Finally, don't forget to call the bomb squad to check the mail before moving it to my study. I'd hate to lose another housekeeper.