I am resolved that this should not devolve into a diary.

The double-hung window opened
from the outside
for the first time since the cat had died (at least it is probably dead by now,
we never found it)
A puff of smoke, and he was in
The Room
brimming with chutzpah and knavery

Skinny fingers all awriggle stopped
“Don’t crack your cadaverous knuckles in my drawing-rrrooom!”
was heard
— the last ‘r’ rolled through the doorway like a marble.
“pah!” snarl-whirl-flourish like that and they faced each other:
Lord Filsmoreworthpledon on his haunches swivelling left and right on an office chair,
and Greg.