Mela became hall duty and was expected to return the balls. Igor, her younger cousin, helped because he liked the lift. Downstairs they found a door with a note: "Storage of things outside the regulations". The door creaked open like indignant geese and let them in. Inside, order reigned after the tornado, which is to say almost none. Labels lay on the shelves: "Whistle of silence", "Self-writing chalk", "Solar umbrella". In the middle was a desktop and a red button the size of a doughnut. Next to it hung a placard: "Do not press until Tuesday". Igor pointed to a calendar with a cat making a judge's face. - 'Today is Wednesday,' he remarked seriously and corrected his backpack. - So can we? - Mela felt curiosity blink at her like a neon sign. - 'We can't,' said Igor, although he stood closer. A banana-shaped phone rang from the corner. Mela picked up the receiver with the face of a professional dispatcher. - Hello, hello? - She asked cautiously. On the other end someone whispered the alphabet from the end. The phone laughed and tried to bite her sleeve. Mela put it down with the face of a scientist after meeting a talking backpacker. Then the light above the desktop blinked three times. - 'Okay, button, let's see if you have a sense of humour.' She touched it lightly, but the button bounced off her finger like a trampoline. Serpents of tags fell from the ceiling. All the balls in the corner started climbing up the wall. The desktop took in air and... spit out a note: "Trial mode: start". Something metallic rustled behind the bookcase. Then the very familiar grunt of the director sounded.