It’s not use – that guitar string just isn’t long enough. We could tie two or three of them together. Or maybe a banjo string…. they’re kind of stretchy, aren’t they?
Yeah, it’s us again. Big Green, standing at the rim of another hole to the center of the Earth. Damn, this gets tiresome sometimes. We’re not complicated people, you know… aside from that psychology thing. All we want to do is hang out at our abandoned hammer mill, make a little music, watch the stars from the rooftops, bend pretzels on alternate Thursdays, and shoot arrows through the persistent space/time warp in the washroom that Mitch created so many months ago. It’s the simple things that give the most pleasure, is it not? (No, really… I want to know. It is the simple things, isn’t it?) And yet we are perpetually faced with these complications, these Gordian knots, these Rubic Cubes, these Junior Jumbles, these Uncle Art’s Funland spot-the-differences cartoons, these…
Okay, right… well, this little problem we have may not be as difficult as one Uncle Art can typically dish up, but it’s a poser, that’s for sure. You see, Mitch has been building this complex system of tunnels to various destinations on the globe (some actually on the surface of the globe, but – and this is important – NOT ALL). Of course, a project this ambitious requires rigorous testing to ensure the safety of the patrons Mitch hopes to eventually charge MUCHO DINERO for the privilege of riding his trans-Earth trolley through the planet’s chewy center.
Who’s doing the testing? Well, Marvin (my personal robot assistant) volunteered (after Mitch worked on his self-preservation programming a bit). Then, of course, we had to send the man-sized tuber in after Marvin when Marvin somehow got himself lost in the bowels of the Earth. (What the hell… it’s a freaking GLOBE, right? Go in ANY direction and you will find the surface!) Now we’re trying to throw them both a line. They seem to have commandeered a ledge down there somewhere. That’s where the guitar strings came in. (What can I tell you? We’ve never been all that resourceful. )
I’m de-stringing the banjo as we speak. Hold on tubey! Here comes something like a rope…
