The car rolled to a stop in front of the house. Dewey ran to the back of the car and grabbed mrs. s’ bags from the trunk. Dewey jumped up off the icy ground in an attempt the tap the trunk closed. He landed awkard and his feet slipped out from under him as he stumbled to the ground with a thud. He did not dare use mrs. s’ suitcase to gain ground or she would have his head. “Dewey! Where are you with those bags?!?!” Her antagonising vvoice brought Dewey to scramble to his feet. As he made way to jump again, mrs. s hit the switch on the key to close the trunk. Her hyenic laugh faded as she staggerd over the fortress. Dewey’s shoes dragged across the wooden floor in the echoing foyer. He slowly climbed the 53 stairs to the first floor. His gaze longingly staring at the open elivator he did not dare of using. The bags weighed does his arms and he clutched the banister for support as he made his way up the 5th and final flight of stairs. “Two bags??? Dewey My god,” she muttered under her breath. She eyed him.