Mortimer returned to the brownstone, this time with his fiancée, Clara, in tow. The liquor cabinet was locked, the Zorpian had been "sent on a lovely holiday," and the future was, presumably, safe. "They're going to love you," he said, forcing a smile. "Just... if they offer you anything homemade, maybe say you're full."
Astra and Luna fussed over Clara immediately. "Oh, what a delight! So much more vibrant than Mortimer's last guest," Astra chirped. "No wine today, dears," Luna added, winking. "We've moved on to a new brew. Our special Cosmic Calming Tea. Brewed with stardust we collect from the roof!"
Mortimer's heart sank. On the tea tray wasn't just a teapot, but a jar of shimmering, swirling dust. Before he could protest, a scratching sound came from the fireplace. A tiny, furry creature with three big, soulful eyes tumbled out of the flue, covered in soot.
"Oh, you poor, lost little thing!" Luna cooed, scooping it up. "You've come to the right place. A sip of our Cosmic Tea will fix you right up." She poured a thimbleful into a saucer. The creature, which they named a Fuzzlet, lapped it up gratefully.
The Fuzzlet purred. Then it shuddered. Then it wobbled and, with a soft *pop*, split into two identical Fuzzlets. The two new Fuzzlets looked at each other, blinked their six collective eyes, and then both scurried towards the tea tray. "Oh, my," said Astra. "It seems to have brought a friend!"
"More than a friend!" Mortimer cried, as the two Fuzzlets drank and promptly became four. "Aunts, what is in that stardust?" Clara knelt, ignoring the furry chaos. She looked closely at the shimmering dust. "This isn't stardust," she said, her voice steady. "It's a Gremellian replication spore."
The room was quickly filling up. Fuzzlets were popping into existence everywhere, bouncing off the walls and swinging from the chandelier. "Gremellian spores?" Luna asked, trying to knit while a Fuzzlet chewed on her yarn. "Is that a type of herb?"
"They're highly invasive and react to organic compounds!" Clara shouted over the squeaking. "But they have a weakness! They destabilize at a specific sonic frequency! Mortimer, get me spoons, three water glasses, and that old radio!"
While the aunts tried to gently herd the multiplying creatures with doilies, Mortimer and Clara worked frantically. She filled the glasses with water, tuned the radio to produce a low hum, and began tapping the spoons against the rims of the glasses, creating a strange, ringing harmony.
The ringing intensified. The Fuzzlets all froze mid-pop. One by one, they dissolved into little piles of inert, grey dust. Silence fell, broken only by the hum of the radio. Astra looked at Clara with newfound respect. "My dear," she said, "you are a marvel. You must stay for dinner. We're trying a new recipe for glowing mushrooms." Mortimer sighed and began looking for the number of a good bio-hazard cleanup crew.
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