And there, the yardstick floated. Waiting, as if to see if Nancy was going to try and bail out on cleaning up her mess or if she would commit. It took an agonizingly long time for the spirit to make up it's mind. As it stood there, minute by minute, the sound of a foot tapping against the ground while it waited... every so often, the yardstick would lift a little bit, drift back down, lift a little bit, drift back down. As if to remind Nancy she was still being watched.
A ways into the clean-up detail and the stick seemed to have made up it's mind. The implement itself moved and rested down on the nearby table, while the sound of footsteps led back deeper into the room. There was a familiar noise that followed.
Thwip.
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