Jirggle

Staying somewhere with my little brother. He is leaving to go to work. I feel in my mind it is about 11 in the morning. Then I realise it's much earlier and it's around 7am. I'm thinking I have a lot of time to myself before work when he leaves. He does just that and as I am musing on the time ahead he comes back in the front door - his Yale key is getting stuck and he cannot work the lock. It's sort of okay as there is actually a smaller door within the front door that he can open with another key, then he can reach in with his arm to unlock and let himself in. He does this to check. He leaves. I try my key in the lock and it sticks. Concerned, I need to go and see about fixing this-

I'm suddenly mixed up in a strange overlap of time. I'm experiencing people who worked on this (imaginary) Mansun anthology comic called 'SCAM' and we're in a room together chatting. There's a tall guy with glasses and another (less memorable) guy and they are visibly young at this point. I'm then going upstairs at some sort of rickety garret-style space, not much more than a door and staircase wide, where it seems some kind of student experiments/art projects are being carried out. I see a bottle of oil, puzzled that it has no cap/applicator. I dip the Yale key directly into it. It's dripping with oil but I then use flour to soak that surplus? The oil (I think) belongs to the tall guy with glasses, only he's now much older. He seems to be working on some sort of experiment with sheets of fibreglass or something and is scuffling about over them in this cramped and dusty space-