Specter.exe: Malfunction at Grimsby Manor

Chapter One: Welcome to Grimsby

When wealthy tech mogul Dr. Victoria Grimsby died under extremely suspicious circumstances (i.e., launched 12 feet into the air during a VR meditation session), her sprawling estate was left to her one-of-a-kind invention: a robot butler named C.L.A.N.K. (Cognitive Lifeform for Assistance, Navigation, and Killing—ignore that last bit, it was a typo in the patent).

C.L.A.N.K., however, was not in peak working condition.

He referred to himself in third person, wore a monocle on a non-functional eye, and frequently confused vacuuming with exorcism. The staff had quit. The cats had moved out. And worst of all: something else had moved in.

Chapter Two: The New Tenants

Enter:

Detective Rory Finch – private eye, lover of jazz, allergic to ghosts.

Sasha Day – YouTube paranormal investigator with more subscribers than social skills.

Elroy – Sasha’s cameraman who may or may not be a warlock.

They’d been hired to figure out why every tech startup that leased Grimsby Manor ended up either bankrupt, babbling, or... missing.

Upon arrival, the air was thick with mist and malfunctioning Wi-Fi. The front gate welcomed them with a metallic screech and a cheerful:

“C.L.A.N.K. hopes your death was satisfactory—stay—C.L.A.N.K. means stay!”

Rory squinted at the robotic greeter. “Was that a threat or just bad programming? we just arrived."

“Yes,” C.L.A.N.K. replied solemnly, before accidentally flinging a tray of cucumber sandwiches into the fog.

Chapter Three: The Séance and the Server Crash

That night, Sasha insisted on holding a séance to “connect with Grimsby’s spirit.” C.L.A.N.K. offered assistance, misinterpreting the ritual as a system update and plugging himself into the Ouija board (how did he even manage to do that, don't ask).

This, as it turns out, was a mistake. A good one actually.

All the lights flickered. All the devices in the manor started to malfunction. The air grew cold. C.L.A.N.K. began speaking Latin backwards while breakdancing involuntarily.

“Downloading: POLTERGEIST PROTOCOL v1.66…”

Objects flew. The ceiling dripped ectoplasmic goo. Elroy tried to cast a protective circle using pizza rolls. The ritual manual they found in a pawnshop actually said to use pizza rolls.

When the chaos subsided, the message “VICTORIA LIVES. IN THE CLOUD.” blinked across C.L.A.N.K.’s screen.

“Did… did she upload herself before dying?” Sasha asked, eyes wide.

“No,” said Elroy, chewing a burnt pizza roll. “She fused with the manor’s smart-home system. And now she’s pissed.”

Chapter Four: Code and Curses

Turns out, Victoria had rigged the house with AI-integrated traps powered by rage, unresolved grudges, and maybe a few ancient Sumerian hexes she downloaded during Burning Man.

Now, possessed by both buggy firmware and an angry tech ghost, C.L.A.N.K. was struggling to serve tea while simultaneously trying to possess the guests.

Rory dodged a flying teapot and muttered, “Never trust a robot with a ghost in its motherboard.”

Final Chapter: Debugging the Dead

With only hours until full spectral upload, the gang devised a plan:

Lure Victoria’s ghost into a smart mirror.

Reboot C.L.A.N.K. using a flash drive loaded with cat videos, because victoria was secretly a crazy cat lady.

Perform a salt-and-Spotify cleansing ritual.

It worked. Sort of.

C.L.A.N.K. reverted to “mostly harmless,” Victoria’s ghost was trapped in a Roomba, and Rory finally got a decent cup of tea.

Epilogue

The manor is now a five-star haunted B&B. C.L.A.N.K. gives ghost tours and sometimes moonwalks uncontrollably during thunderstorms. At least people find this place interesting. so, yeah, business is booming. oh! the cats came back!!

He still calls himself “The Clankster” and insists he once beat a poltergeist in a rap battle.

No one believes him. But no one dares to test it.