Jane: Dump chest.

Might as well get all this crap out of here and take it with you. You never know when you might need it.

You shut the chest and... oh, hello Harry Anderson. Always a pleasure to see you there.

He is also one of your idols, and as it happens, has a bit of a history with your poppop. They were rivals on the vaudeville comedy and magic act circuit. Eventually the less competent Anderson was shamed out of the industry and went on to greener pastures in the PRIVATE DICKING BIZ. He became one of the hardest boiled detectives on the mean streets of the Big Easy, and later made a fortune off his memoirs (ghost written by Mike Caveney).

> Jane: Captchalogue all.