Today, the pitiful Mr. Gaiman writes:
"Home. Tired. The garden has turned into a fecund jungle in my absence, and when I opened the bonnet (that's the hood for Americans) of my Mini today it was apparent that mice (I presume) have a) stripped some of the insulation from under the bonnet of my Mini to build nests with, which I suppose I can understand, and b) found a convenient space near the car battery to use as a place to store spaghetti, which I find somewhat stranger. Why do mice need a place to store spaghetti anyway? It's all a bit surreal, but then everything is sort of surreal right now."
Shall I translate for you, O poor benighted reader? Shall I reveal to you the workings of the Unseen Tentacles? Back in the Mists of Time, when the Shrieking Foes wept dark riddles into the Upwards Fall, the Great Unnamable One told He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named (no not Him, the other one) that the mice which served as his servants were incapable of the grand thefts of which HWSNBN boasted! HWSNBN then challenged GUO to a bet, that his time-traveling mouse-thieves could not steal Marco Polo's precious cargo of spaghetti and hide it under the hood of some foolish innocent's car! Well, so much for that! BEHOLD THE MIGHTY WORKINGS OF CTHULHU!*
*The Mad Arab is, however, unable to explain the loss of the insulation.