Ever laid down a pen, walked off, and then never found it—in spite of every reasonable expectation that it should be right there?

Ever wondered where it went?

Here. The basement of the great cosmic bureaucracy. The Bureau of the Lost and Forgotten. What, you think the universe just runs itself? Pull the other one!

God, but I loathe twenty-first century Earth. Not that the twentieth was much better. We have whole vaults devoted to AOL CDs. It took the entire secretary pool ages to catalogue the lot of them! Junk, junk, junk, junk—and the paperwork has to be done for each and every one of them!

It isn’t all bad though. You meet interesting sorts wandering through here. That Earhart woman, what a gal! Some fun stuff, too. We had the Rosetta Stone for a while, but the claims got sorted, and it was delivered to some guy. Short. Bad temper. Probably French.

So, anyway, since you look to be here a while, I guess I have some time to chit-chat. . .