Wickedywick, the experienced real estate agent, finds himself in an unusual situation as he shows a client around a vacant, dilapidated house. The client, oblivious to Wickedywick's growing desire, prattles on about potential improvements. Wickedywick's mind, however, is elsewhere, imagining the client's body pressed against the chipped paint, the sound of their moans echoing through the empty rooms. As they reach the attic, the client turns to Wickedywick, eyes filled with curiosity and lust. "What's that sound?" they ask, and Wickedywick, with a wicked grin, replies, "That, my dear, is the sound of my zipper coming down."