Why a Dyson? Because the last thing you need is another useless shiny toy hanging around the house. 

Ernie rolled over and lit a cigarette.

"Hey, Toots. Whaddya say you get in that kitchen and rustle us up some grub? I'm gonna need my strength. Got a big day lined up with that Dyson DC34 over there."

Brandi removed her tassels and placed them on the nightstand. She pulled the sheet up to her chin and slumped down in a pout.

"Awww, Daddy. Do you HAVE to work today? I thought we was going to the zoo. I wanna pet the panda bears."

"I told you already, you can't just go pettin' panda bears. They're endangered. The zoo people won't let you get near them. Besides, if I can move as many of those lightweight and ergonomic handhelds as I think I can, I could buy you a panda bear."

Brandi bounced and clapped happily at the thought of owning her very own panda bear. Ernie took advantage of the momentary distraction by getting up and gathering his things. By the time she noticed, he had already tested the 22.2 volt Lithium-ion battery and practiced how to demonstrate the hygienic and quick-to-empty dirt bin.

He had one foot out the door when she finally got out of bed and draped the sheet around her.

"And just what am I supposed to do all day while you're out showboatin' with all your fancy cleanin' machines?"

Ernie turned to face her. She sure was a dolly. No one could argue with that. But oooh boy, she was also as dumb as the day was long, and it was starting to grate on him. He took a wad of cash out of his pocket and tossed it at her.

"Here. Entertain yourself."

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