Blade Kohlhaas and the Epic Battle of the Remote

Blade Kohlhaas woke up to the sound of silence. Or rather, the lack of sound. His trusty television, once a constant companion, was now an unresponsive hunk of plastic. Panic set in as he realized the dire situation: the remote was missing.
Undeterred, Blade embarked on a heroic quest to locate the missing device. He searched every nook and cranny of his apartment, from the couch cushions to the refrigerator. Nothing. Just when hope was dwindling, he spotted it—nestled behind the washing machine, as if mocking his despair.
With the remote finally in his grasp, Blade triumphantly returned to the couch, ready to resume his television marathon. But as he pressed the power button, nothing happened. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he realized the extent of the crisis. The remote was dead!
Blade's frustration knew no bounds. He had dodged death by remotelessness only to fall victim to another, equally treacherous foe: dead batteries. Refusing to give up, he scoured the apartment once more, this time in search of batteries. Success! He found a pair of AAAs hidden in the junk drawer.
With the batteries in place, Blade returned to the couch, his hopes reignited. And behold, the television sprang back to life, filling the room with the sweet melody of cable news.
But his triumph was short-lived. As he reached for the remote, the dreaded realization struck him—it was stuck. The buttons refused to budge, rendering the device useless once more.
Blade, now on the verge of a nervous breakdown, let out a cry of anguish. He couldn't believe this was happening. He was trapped in a technological purgatory, forever bound to his empty couch, unable to escape the tyranny of a broken remote.
Just when all seemed lost, Blade heard a knock at the door. It was his neighbor, Carol, an old woman with a kind heart and a penchant for knitting.
"Blade, honey," Carol said, "I heard you've been having some trouble with your television."
Blade poured out his woes to Carol, who listened intently. A gleam came to her eye as she rummaged through her purse.
"I think I have just the thing," Carol said, triumphantly producing a small, wooden device. "It's a universal remote. It should work with any television."
With trembling hands, Blade took the remote from Carol. He pointed it at the television and pressed the power button. To his astonishment, the screen flickered to life.
Blade let out a cheer and hugged Carol tightly. "You're a lifesaver!" he exclaimed.
From that day forward, Blade Kohlhaas became known throughout the apartment complex as the man who survived the Great Remote Crisis. And though he never forgot the terror he endured, he couldn't help but smile every time he thought of the kind old neighbor who had saved the day with her miraculous universal remote.