But, he thought that a shoe is hollow if he takes it off in the morning. So, he asked for a broken shoe that the cobbler/shoemaker might have, and he put tuppence in it. He stared at it for a long time. He realized that rather than draw he should cut, and when he did he had a hole. But holes are quite not as easy as circles, and he could not cut inside his hole. Again he stared at the tuppence in the cobblemaker’s spare shoe–suffice it to say, that the cobblemaker did not give to him the shoe to own, but he accepted nevertheless that his activity with the spare shoe would do no more than annoy an annoying shoemaker, to explain the compartmentalizing that is going on.

An half hour later he cut two intersecting slits in a piece of paper and laughed because intersecting they were not holes. They were a hole, but not two holes. But he knew he cut them differently. He had had to turn the paper over so he could cut with his right hand both holes. Unfortunately the cobblermake guy did not believe him even though he-him could not write with his left hand. “I don’t know if you can write with your unicorn hand, or not. I can’t even prove that there are no left hands even though I have no hands nor eyes. When my wife baked me a cake that the dog ate before it I could eat, I did not believe that cake exists. I will not believe cake exists until I taste one before my dog. I am afraid because I do not know where the taste of the cake will go after we eat the cake. I do not even know where the tastes of the other cakes would have gone. Everything points to more dimensions. The parts of the alleged cake must as well have begun passing before I even noticed the interesting smell as not. And eventually my wife will use all her flour. My apprehension doubles because I do not know if she can still bake a cake with new flour. Everything points to more dimensions . . . My greatest fear is cake with eyes and even worse is no cake without eyes.  The worst is nothing without eyes except me.  I don’t need eyes if there are eyes.”

So, he knew that his two holes must point into the room one from each side of the paper. But a hole within a hole, inside another hole? As holes are holes two. He smiled. “If only I had more sides there then with three. Three of them, one each, not one not. All as holes are holes all.”

Then all of sudden one guy’s like, “What the fuck man. This huge ship isn’t a sailboat, it has engines and computers and stuff. All we have to do is find the control room, then we can sail it from there.”

So, they go looking for the main cabin, but this ship is so freaking huge, like God’s feet or something or maybe even like a million elephants huge, they look for hours and can’t find a thing. Except they did find the kitchen and spent like one of the hours in there ’cause they were freakin hungry like God’s feet or something or maybe like a million elephants hungry.

Anyway, they’re about to give up, then one guy’s like, “I have an idea, why don’t we split up and look for the cabin in all different places. I mean, of course we’re not going to find it if we all just keep searching this one hallway over and over. One of us can keep checking here, which is good ’cause all of us together would finish off all the food, and the rest of you can search other floors and stuff.”

Yeah, so, this guy’s idea actually worked right away, since the main cabin was just on the top floor, and really easy to find. So they all pack up some sandwiches and go try to figure out how to sail the ship. So they’re all up there pushing buttons and stuff, then one guy gets annoyed, “Dude, stop it! I can’t tell what buttons do what if you’re always pushing more buttons right after me.” “What? I just thought it would be faster if we both pushed buttons, ’cause there’s so freakin many we could get through them all faster.” “Whatever, just get the hell out, and wait outside.”

So, that guy goes outside, and he’s just sort of hanging around looking at the sky. Then he sees an albatross, and he’s like “Cool!” and he shoots the albatross right in the face with a flare gun. The other two guys come running out to see what happened, and one’s like “What the fuck did you do, are you trying to burn the ship down. What the fuck? You shot an albatross? Do you know how bad luck that is?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? It’s good luck to shoot albatrosses, you’re thinking of flying seagulls.”

“Dude, what the fuck? We have have to eat you now.”

Then all of a sudden the ship ran aground on some rocks, and at the top of the rocks there was a restaurant with a sign saying, “Albatross served here.” So the guy who shot the albatross was like, “See I told you.”

So they all went up to the restaurant to get something to eat, and they go in and there’s like all these freakin albatross, like a hundred of them, eating dinner. So the guys are all like, “What the fuck?” And they go up to the maitre di, who’s also an albatross, and they’re all like, “What the fuck is going on here. I thought you served albatross here. ”

Then with a huge smile, the albatross is like, “We do. We serve them people.”

Anyway, when she’s there, there’s a murder and since last time she was there there was a murder she helped solve, since she’s a mystery writer and stuff, the local police detective reluctantly asks her for help. The detective is happy to see her and all, but he just doesn’t like asking for help because he’s a stubborn older man and a little bit sexually attracted to our older woman. So, she’s here sort of juggling scenes between her friend and solving the mystery amidst this beautiful countryside, and her older male second hand man who seems to follow her everywhere for some reason and helps her solve mysteries in a friendship-based support capacity, is there too.

So, it turns out same as last time, the butler did it. And this lady’s really good, and she pieces a lot of random clues together, so everyone’s sure she’s right. It’s just that this town has the worst butler luck ever.