From the air, he could see many miles. He could see the people around the lake pointing up and waving. Japanese tourists were taking pictures like there was no tomorrow. I'm sure the sight of a slime-covered man in a checked tutu and holding a bottle of wine in flight was an unusual sight, even for them. He came tumbling down again with all the grace of a brick, and landed on a conveniently-placed mattress. It was rather hot, he thought. All manner of people came rushing to him to see if he had damaged the mattress. Japanese people, chinese people, english people, scottish people, everyone.

He deducted by way of a conveniently-placed sign that apparently the mattress was very rare, having been once used by Jesus McChrist, the great scottish prophet from days well before Connor McCloud of Clan McCloud. He wasn't sure who that was, who Jesus McChrist was, and as some revelationary thought what he was doing in Scotland in general, so far from home. Climbing off of the mattress, he began to take the long walk home, which he wasn't really sure the exact location of. This had been a rather odd day for Crispy, as he very rarely got the chance to see japanese people. Auntie Gertie had always wanted to meet japanese people, he remembered and laughed slightly, making way now for the cemetary for some jumping and diving. After walking for many hours, cleaning his wine bottle to pass the time, he noticed a sign, in some strange language. Is that Welsh? he thought. Auntie Gertie's wheelchair was Welsh, he mused, and laughed slightly.