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"No," Leo said, leaning casually against a doorframe that smelled of bargain-bin lavender. "Just smart shopping."

Leo stared at the "low battery" light on his vacuum, which felt more like a metaphor for his life. His apartment didn’t just have dust bunnies; it had a dust civilization, complete with lint-based infrastructure.

When the landlord walked in on Friday, he paused, squinting at the sparkling counters. "New place?" he asked.

Two days later, a box arrived that was so heavy it nearly crushed his mail carrier’s spirit. Inside wasn’t just soap; it was a revolution. There were "Concentrated Magic Drops" that smelled faintly of a pine forest having an existential crisis and a pack of microfiber cloths so blue they made the sky look dull.

Leo went to work. He scrubbed like a man possessed, fueled by the satisfaction of a bargain. By Thursday night, the linoleum was so shiny he could see his own tired, triumphant reflection in it.