Meanwhile, things over at Screech’s house were in a state of total bedlam. Screech’s father was away on a business trip and his mother was at home working on a project for her boss. It was so time consuming that everything else around her was neglected. His mother had left the beds unmade, and the laundry was scattered haphazardly about the bathroom, most likely as a result of the overflowing hamper's unwillingness to accept another donation. The dishes were piled high in the sink and more were waiting their turn to enjoy the cleansing immersion on the table. Screech attacked those right away. The sound of the water running in the kitchen sink elicited a grateful thank you from his mother, who was somewhere still entrenched in her home office. After he finished the dishes, he made her a cheese sandwich and brought it in for her. Her files lay around her desk and feet in varying piles of disorderliness, begging the time for her work to be done so that they could be placed back in their usual order. She looked at him gratefully and said, "My, if I'm not the lucky one to have a son like you. It makes all this nonsense worth it."