There's a range of substances available that, by chemistry weird and arcane, remove stains from carpet. Let us call them 'carpet stain removers'.
There's one in particular that I use. It comes in a resealable tin, and it takes the form of a suspicious-looking white powder that, bizarrely enough, removes stains from carpet. You pour a little of it on the stain, optionally rub it into the carpet a little, leave it for half an hour, and then you have at it with a vacuum.
I have no idea what it's made from; for all I know it's probably some alchemical compound made from the blood plasma of dragons by gnomish chemists operating out of a secret facility buried deep in the Carpathian foothills and powered by nargles on treadmills. Or it might just be a powdery mix of surfactants; you never know.
So, today, when I had a bottle of Jolt unmysteriously explode in my hand, my choice of arms to bear against the cluster of dark, caffeinated spots on the floor was this mystical, magical compound of cleaning (+2/+4 vs. wine), unleashing this potent substance upon the hapless stains.
I left it for the requisite thirty minutes, then came back to vacuum it off the carpet. For the most part, it came quietly, leaving only unstained carpet in its wake. In one spot, however, the white powder of floor covering cleanliness seemed to just spread out onto the surface of the carpet, leaving a patch that was noticeably brighter than the floor around it.
I went back and reread the label on the stain remover: no, not bleachy, and it'd certainly never done anything like that before, because if there's one thing you can rely on to do precisely what you want, it's the blood plasma of dragons charged with nargle-generated electricity and arcane science.
So emboldened, I went back to trying to vacuum this pale patch of flooring, assaulting it with partial decompression in a way unlikely to ever be memorialised in epic verse, when finally, it occured to me.
I was trying to vacuum up the light from my desk lamp.
There's one in particular that I use. It comes in a resealable tin, and it takes the form of a suspicious-looking white powder that, bizarrely enough, removes stains from carpet. You pour a little of it on the stain, optionally rub it into the carpet a little, leave it for half an hour, and then you have at it with a vacuum.
I have no idea what it's made from; for all I know it's probably some alchemical compound made from the blood plasma of dragons by gnomish chemists operating out of a secret facility buried deep in the Carpathian foothills and powered by nargles on treadmills. Or it might just be a powdery mix of surfactants; you never know.
So, today, when I had a bottle of Jolt unmysteriously explode in my hand, my choice of arms to bear against the cluster of dark, caffeinated spots on the floor was this mystical, magical compound of cleaning (+2/+4 vs. wine), unleashing this potent substance upon the hapless stains.
I left it for the requisite thirty minutes, then came back to vacuum it off the carpet. For the most part, it came quietly, leaving only unstained carpet in its wake. In one spot, however, the white powder of floor covering cleanliness seemed to just spread out onto the surface of the carpet, leaving a patch that was noticeably brighter than the floor around it.
I went back and reread the label on the stain remover: no, not bleachy, and it'd certainly never done anything like that before, because if there's one thing you can rely on to do precisely what you want, it's the blood plasma of dragons charged with nargle-generated electricity and arcane science.
So emboldened, I went back to trying to vacuum this pale patch of flooring, assaulting it with partial decompression in a way unlikely to ever be memorialised in epic verse, when finally, it occured to me.
I was trying to vacuum up the light from my desk lamp.
