What a perfect time for one of your roommates to get home

The situation was clearly out of your control when the front door opened. The few things you commanded correctly were doing as they were told, but there was no keeping up with the renegade gloves, whose animated paintbrushes were now literally painting the house in Manacite.

"Hello?" It was Callie.

If you couldn't stop everything, you could at least get to your roommate before the Manacite did. You bolted for the front door when, mid-stride, you slowed. Actually, your clothes slowed you. Despite trying to move your limbs, you were halted in the middle of the kitchen amidst hovering dishes, slamming cupboards, and the remaining paintbrush meticulously going over the contents of the cupboards and drawers. Now the rest of the flatware, utensils and vessels were activated as well.

"Callie--don't come in the kitchen!" Which was stupid to say. You knew she was only going to walk in, saying:

"Why n-nah..." She didn't even get the words out before she saw the mess of flying objects, looking something like a scene out of Poltergeist. "What the hell is going on here?" Callie searched you for an explanation, and she was about to get an eyeful. Instead of holding you still, now your clothes were determined to move fast--fast enough that you couldn't hold them back. Your pants unbuttoned and dropped to the floor, shoving your ankles forward just as your shirt inverted itself over your head. When you fell backward, you landed on your ass--hard.

Now your briefs were sliding off of you as you sat on the cold kitchen floor. By the time Callie had gotten sense enough to bolt, the paintbrush that just finished its job in the kitchen took to diving back into the sink, reloading with life-giving solution before painting up Callie's outfit.