You are sitting on the couch, the third day in an ongoing heatwave. As you sit in loose clothes you hear the noise - a low dull sound, continuous like a watch makes: drip, drip, drip. You turn on your television to play some games as a distraction, but the sound continues over the pixilated adventure, the metallic thuds of water in the kitchen basin driving you on edge. Your clumsy fixes did nothing - drip, drip, drip. The sound enough to make you mad. You glare daggers at the innocent opening to the kitchen toward the villainous appliance. When you hear the crackle of tires on the concrete driveway outside, then heavy steps to your doorway. Thud, thud, thud came a knock on your door. You breathe a sigh of relief and sink into the couch before rising to open it, seeing a horseman with a dad-bod in beige coveralls with the name 'Rosewell' in cursive on it. "Where's the problem?" he grunts, nodding in acknowledgement.