The. Walls. Are. Made. Of. Stone.
Oh. So like a labyrinth. You should have said so from the start.
I DID SAY SO FROM THE START.
As you should have. So then. How did you come to be trapped in a labyrinth?
I think I angered a powerful man.
No, a businessman.
How'd that happen?
I was on vacation in Greece, and I was ... you know, relaxing on the beach.
Drinking ouzo. Staring at other people's wives and daughters.
Sure. But like really, extremely relaxed.
Exposing yourself to other people's wives and daughters.
"You ladies here for a good time? Or a long ..." -looks down- "... a longish time? Like a long enough
not to need to feel self-conscious about it time?"
Yeah. And then blackness. And then I woke up here.
So, having shown your tackle to someone's wife or daughter -- someone with the wherewithal to build a labyrinth -- you were drugged and placed in one.
And now I'd like to escape, please.
I'm assuming you don't have a ball of thread with you.
No, I wasn't doing any sewing at the beach.
Well, that rules out the classic escape. OK then, we'll simply fall back on logic. Touch the wall on your right. Now, never lifting your hand from that wall, follow it all the way around the labyrinth. You'll eventually find the exit.
Nothing more I can help you with. It's all tedious work from here. Now then, off you go. If you need me, just holler. I'll be here drinking ouzo and reading stories about Greek men wrestling.
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"Ah, very good. Yes." -turns page- "Yessssssssssssh."