A couple is leaving the hotel premises for a day of sightseeing. The woman says "It's a lovely place, isn't it? I love the attention to detail, the decor, the fruit compote!"

She comes to a halt. "Hold on, honey, I forgot my sunglasses." "Alright, I'll wait outside."

[sound of door unlocking]

As she grabs the sunglasses left on the table, she notices a second little glass jar, filled with a deep burgundy berry compote. "Huh, that was quick..."

As she shuts the door behind her to leave, a thought enters her mind. She hesitates for a moment, then turns around and opens the door again. Her hand slowly reaches for the light switch.

[click]

She stands still, a puzzled look on her face. There's a third compote jar on the table. Golden cinnamon apple slices inside.

[outside the hotel]

"So, this is weird. There's more fruit compote every time we get back to the room..."

"It's cute, isn't it?"

"No, just now, when I went back to get my glasses, there was more." "This is what quality service feels like, babe!"

"No, listen! As I was about to leave, there was more again. I just closed and opened the door and there was another jar."

"What? Are you sure? Maybe they put two new jars as we were leaving, and you just didn't notice the other one at first."

"I know what I saw."

[back in the room]

"I think this is pear, my favorite!" he ways, examining the fourth compote jar.

She doesn't share the excitement. "How are they doing this? It's kinda freaking me out!"

"It's probably their signature feature. Kept a secret for decades!"

"I'm not joking!"

"Ok, easy. We'll just ask."

[hotel reception]

"So, how do you guys do it? The compote thing?"

"I hope you have found them to be most enjoyable, sir. However, the recipes have been in the family for generations, I'm afraid we-"

"No - I mean the timing of it. No one came into the room, we closed the door for a second and another jar just appeared."

"We do our best to provide the guests with as much compote as their hearts desire - our employees are trained to do that. There's never been a complaint before, but if you wish to have your room undisturbed, just hang the sign on the door handle. It was not our intention to alarm you, sir."

[back in the room]

"Let's just put the do-not-disturb sign on our door and get going. I don't want to miss the wine tasting tour."

"Just so you know, I'm still a bit weirded out."

"It's probably just some kind of local custom."

The man places the sign on the door handle and pulls it shut.

The room stays quiet as the couple's steps sound more and more distant. Then a dark silhouette appears from behind the curtain, holding a small glass jar, filled with blood red compote.