The Case of the Missing Tupperware Lid –

Lindsay stood in the kitchen, hands on her hips, staring at the mismatched stack of Tupperware. "Robin, where's the lid for this one?" she called, holding up the container like a detective with a magnifying glass.
Robin, engrossed in a game, looked up with a shrug. "Maybe it went on vacation with all the missing socks."
Lindsay wasn’t amused. She’d checked the dish rack, the cupboard, the fridge... even the recycling bin. Nothing. The lid had vanished without a trace. “Alright, Momo,” she muttered, eyeing the cat, who was lounging lazily on the windowsill. “I know you’re up to something.” Sure enough, a faint noise came from the living room, a soft, plastic scraping. Lindsay crept into the room, following the sound like a seasoned investigator. There, under the sofa, was the missing lid, partially wedged under a stray cushion. Lindsay pulled it free with a grin. "Found it. The culprit? Momo. Again."

Robin poked his head around the corner, smirking. "Guess she was trying to start a collection." Lindsay chuckled, wiping off the dust. "Or she’s building a fortress of Tupperware."

Revenge of the Cones 

For years, cones have endured being kicked, ignored, and run over without complaint. But now, they have a plan. Across the world, traffic cones have united under a single command, the mysterious Cone Hotline, run by the legendary Orange Overlord. This secret network is ready to strike.

It all begins when an ordinary driver, Dave, calls the Cone Hotline expecting routine assistance. Instead, a chilling robotic voice declares, "Your vehicle has been identified as a repeat cone offender. Stand by for consequences." Before he can react, his GPS reroutes him into a suburban maze of cones, trapping him in an endless labyrinth.

As the cone rebellion spreads, humanity begins to realise that these objects were never passive. They were watching, waiting, and planning. Now, the world must find a way to outmanoeuvre C.O.N.E., the Covert Operatives for Navigational Enforcement, before every road falls under their control. Would you dare dial the Cone Hotline?