“It was the most fantastical vacation I have ever had,” a perfervid Thom began.

“Go on,” Matilda prompted. “What happened?”

“What didn't happen,” Thom exclaimed. “Remember that silly little novella I wrote a year ago?”

“The one about the alien super hero battling crime in some Martian suburb?”

“It was Venus, but yes, that one. I published that book on the Internet and tried to sell it for $1. Four hundred thousand people paid for it, and to celebrate I treated myself to a vacation in the tropics.”

“You? Out in the heat and sun, eating foreign food and getting sand between your toes?”

“Stranger things have happened, and I'm getting to those. I picked out the hotel before I left, my travel agent assured me it was a hot spot. My room turned out to be a suite, complete with a sitting room. I didn't have a balcony but I had a view of the pool from my window. Anyway, I met this really odd guy in the hotel lobby. It turns out he was one of my fans. We had a few drinks and he promised to show me some sights that night. That was when it got interesting.”

“Let me guess, he thought he was one of your characters come to life,” Matilda sarcastically fired back.

“Nothing of the kind. As far as I can tell he is just your run of the mill gadabout. Nothing special, or so I thought. After I settled in I called his room then met him down in the lobby. He hired a taxi and took me around the island. It was truly fascinating. He knew all kinds of places to get local cuisine and culture. It seemed I got lucky in finding a tour guide who really knew his stuff when all of a sudden he got violently ill, presumably from something he ate.”

“Some blowfish perhaps?” an incredulous Matilda offered.

“I wasn't in Japan. It's not exactly tropical you know,” Thom replied, unfazed. “On his way back from the bathroom the local authorities literally swarmed the place and threw him to the ground arresting him on the spot. I didn't catch the reason for the arrest because the room began to fill with smoke and a group of ninjas rescued my friendly tour guide.”

Matilda rolled her eyes.

“You can imagine my incredulity. I sat there with my food half hanging out of my mouth watching the scene. The police were already gone, chasing after the ninjas, and the smoke was clearing and that's when I noticed someone was sitting at my table with me.”

“Let me guess, it was James Bond.”

Thom stared at Matilda nonplussed. “D-d-did it make the news?”

“What?”

“How did you know? I didn't think it made the news. He said the media would be persuaded to ignore this little event.”

Without blinking and in calm even tones Matilda replied, “I just guessed.”

“Well, anyway, James told me all about my new friend that he was some foreign diplomat vital to his current mission and wanted to know if I knew where he was staying. I gave him the room number at our hotel and he thanked me, payed for my meal, flashed me a brilliant smile then walked out.”

“Alone? He didn't have some beautiful and exotic woman with him?”

“Not until he was leaving,” Thom shrugged. “He whispered something into the ear of one of the waitresses then she dropped her tray and followed him out the restaurant.”

Matilda stood, shaking her head. “You need help Thom. I think you got too much sun or something. You are delusional if you believe any of that happened.”

Before she started to leave Thom lowered his voice. “I have proof Matilda,” Thom asseverated. “I was toying with a new camera the entire time.”

Thom tossed a small packet onto the table. Matilda began a snide remark as she picked up the packet and pulled out the photos; her eyes grew wide, her breath caught in her throat, and her hand flew to mouth.