It was just another day at the office when Gloria dumped the letter in my in-tray. I looked up at her, granite-faced; maybe I'd invite her for dinner. She turned away ignoring my unspoken invitation. The letter contained a note from God (the Editor) telling me to 'haul my mangy carcass' down to a little place in South America to find out why so many people had mysteriously disappeared there. The thought of the Editor disappearing mysteriously cheered me up a little until a brick with a plane ticket attached landed on my desk. I arrived at the sleepy peasant village the following day. The welcoming committee had seen to everything. The hotel was closed and the well had a health warning on it. But I had a job to do and a paycheque to collect, so after finding a Coke machine getting this mystery solved was top priority. I had no idea what was in store for me. Maybe if I had I would have gone to the ballgame instead...
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