Pretzel Warrior's mother came to Conservative Cave, looking for her little lost son. She said he was last seen leaving Skin's Island in a leaky boat with one oar, drifting toward the mainland.
I offered the kindly old woman a seat. She looked at me with concern. Without a word, I handed her this morning's newspaper:

She began to weep. "If I told him once, I told him a thousand times- beware of badgers!"
I patted her hand and showed her to the door.