You know, young man, I was beginning to wonder the same thing myself.

I know, I know. It's all a bit much to take in at once, isn't it? Sharing a cell block with the most important, intelligent and - dare I say - pretty sort of marvellous criminal mastermind in the world? Rest assured, gentle yokels, there'll be plenty of time for signing your prison tattoos when we're no longer in mortal danger, OK? OK.

The good news is that we are not defenceless. At least I'm not anyway. Somebody has gone to a lot of trouble to upgrade my cane here and it was already pretty spiffy before I got here. That means whoever banged us up in here also wanted us to get out again and ensure that we are adequately protected. Some sort of crude intelligence test, no doubt, designed to test our mettle for something greater. This isn't my first time with this sort of thing. Unfortunately.

The bad news is that they still banged us up in the first place. Evidently our captors believe us each to be a great enough threat that simply asking for help was never even considered. Whoever is behind this, they must love to play puppetmaster. I should know. It's terrific fun!

Well, "know thy enemy" as they say. Let me have a crack at those controls. The sooner we find out where we are and how to get out of here, the sooner we can figure out who's behind all of this. Trust me. I'm a bit of a dab hand with big red buttons.

(Note to self: find a bathroom at the nearest possible convenience. I refuse to go "questing" with my hands smeared in chimera giblets.)