Holy Moly thought Smedley this must be what an attack of Deja Vu feels like. He was sure that he’d never been to the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa and yet every object in this setting was familiar; right down to that handsomely carved chunk of basalt. He was even sporting his bright Summer mating colors. “Hey there old rock”, he called out. “Where the heck am I?” Alas, the Face of Everyman remained mute, as he is wont to do. “S” flew South, never to return to that magical spot.