It was dark.  The Man With The Mustache woke up and saw nothing but a dimly lit wooden plank.  If he was smarter, or at least well versed in the English language, he may have thought the sight of nothing more than a dimly lit wooden plank was a bit ominous.  But he was not an altogether smart man, nor was he well versed in any language, let alone the one he had used since birth.  So all he thought now was how very strange it was that the ceiling was so close to his nose.  He looked around and saw the wooden plank had multiplied and was not only directly above him but on all sides of him as well.  He couldn’t be sure of it, since he couldn’t see it, but it felt as though he was also lying on a wooden plank.  Even though his brain was not the fastest moving brain ever to inhabit the head of a man, it took him very little time to realize he was in fact stuck fast inside some sort of box.  After he came to this conclusion it did not take him long to realize the box he was... Read more