Sitting in my living room in my underwear, I notice that someone has badly damaged my car with a backhoe. I get dressed. I cannot go out the front door (more on that later) and must go through people's back yards. Amazingly, they are home and let me through. In fact, they are all having parties (to which I was not invited). I see old friends, but I am in a rush to investigate my car, so I can't chat. When I arrive, the backhoe is gone, as is my car. The front lawn has been dug up. We gather around and speculate as to the motive. Were they after something? What? I start to remember that the former owner had been some sort of gangster. Buried treasure. They just took the entire yard away to sort out later. As we look and speculate the hole gets deeper, impossibly deep, like a pit mine. Archaeological artifacts, including a pre-Colombian sea turtle, preserved and decorated, have been left, jumbled together with things that had been in my basement (the washing machine, old electronics, stuff that's really down there).
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