Dizzy The Not-So-Innocent Gear

'It's 6:30 on this wonderful Saturday morning, as we kick off today with some nice jazz..." The radio blared, only to get almost ripped out of it's socket. For one, It was raining, only a light drizzle, but it was still rain. Secondly, You went to bed at 3 am the previous night.

The morning went from bad to worse, as the coffee maker decided that today's caffeine jolt should look more like brown sludge, and the toaster set off the smoke alarm.

"Could this day get any worse?" you sigh, hearing a knock on the door.

"I've got a parcel for you," the mailman said, then went to a small truck, wheeling out a 7 foot tall crate.

"What the...," you begin, only for him to ignore you.

"Sign here please," he says, business-like. You do so, and he dumps the crate in your entryway, gives you the rest of your mail, then leaves.

As he leaves, you lever open one side of the crate with a screwdriver, to reveal a well-padded figure sleeping inside and a note.

"Dear Sir/Madam,

Please take care of DIZZY. She's a bit of a handful at times, but has a heart of gold. Sorry about how we sent her to you, but she was a bit hard to explain to immigration. She does have all the proper paperwork already, but they didn't know how to send her considering her state.

From, A Friend," the cover letter read. You carefully unpack her, dismantling and storing the crate, then set her down on the couch as you think of what to do with her.