Thanks. It's probably because we're both such neat freaks. Daedalus with his missives against dust and me being used to not having servants...

[Everything is ready to go with a little music playing, the place looking tidy and stylish as usual, Mr. Muggles in his kennel for the night. It's meant to be a pleasant atmosphere, casual but relaxing, full of things Kurt likes including a very-drinkable white wine. Franz ushers his friend inside to sit, pouring them glasses.]

So what's so wrong you had to tell me and only me?