Our hero, whose name will not be revealed to keep the suspense going, was sitting in the car. This seems like a very mundane opening, and you would be correct in making that assumption. However, something not-very-mundane was about to happen.
All of a sudden, the car burst into flames, rolled over a cliff and into a fast gorge-river where it floated the car and its precious human cargo over a waterfall into the sixty-foot high drop, landing (wheels first) into the pool below. This ground the car into a slightly finer than rocks, but more fine than sand paste.
This, however, did not happen.
Instead what happened is that the protagonist of this story made it to his destination with minimal losses of any kind of bodily functions or limbs, which is terribly unexciting. What was exciting though is that the doorbell of his destination did not work properly. Instead of making the dreadfully cheery noise that often annoyed our main character, this instead made a noise as though it was dying horribly inside, possibly from being too cheery during its lifespan.
The explanation for this is that the batteries were running out, but that's terribly boring.
Our hero entered the house, cautious. The indigenous fauna of the household made it a very dangerous place indeed. The familius gradparentius, often found lurking around corners, could jump out at any moment and catch its prey in an inescapable hold, usually heard exclaiming things like 'My how you've grown!' and such like.
Such a thing occurred now to our hero, who made the appropriate groaning response.
This is a universal phenomenon. In fact, grandparents on Cellulon VI (or some other clichéd name for a planet) will be doing this. The philosopher Efridote made the claim that at any given point, someone in the universe will be in the hold of their grandparent, or indeed, someone else’s grandparent. It was only recently that this was proven to be true.
The reason why our hero was at his grandparent’s house is terribly boring, so I won’t cover the details; just know that he was.
Breaking free from the viper-grip, he decided that he should sit down, only to realise that the couch did not actually exist and fell onto the floor. However, the floorboards were rotten there because the couch monsters had gotten to them (more on them later), and he fell through the floor into the basement, where a mystery existed that needed solving.
This is only partly true.
Our hero sat on the couch, listening to boring things about the weather and “when I was your age, we didn’t have things like hovercars, or whatever it is you kids nowadays have”. But there was one thing addressed to him. His grandfather said he could leave if he wanted.
He loved the house, with all its nooks and crannies. He was certain he hadn’t explored them all. In fact, he hadn’t. Every time he went into the attic, there was always something new there he didn’t notice before.