Hello, I'm Neil Gaiman,
and I wrote this book.
It's called Fortunately, The Milk.
The only book I have ever written
that dares tackle the big questions.
Questions like what happens when you
open the door on a spaceship and
let the space-time continuum in?
Will evil aliens redecorate by
replacing all of Earth's mountains with
throw cushions and replace Australia
with an enormous decorative plate with
a picture of Australia on it?
Are we actually living in
the present as we believe?
Or are we living in the far, far future?
[MUSIC]
I was out, at the end of the plank, facing
certain death when a rope ladder hit my
shoulder and
a deep booming voice shouted, quickly!
Climb up the rope ladder!
I needed no more encouragement than this.
And I grabbed the rope
ladder with both hands.
And fortunately, the milk was pushed
deep into the pocket of my coat.
Pirates hurled insults at me and
even discharged pistols.
But neither insults nor
pistols shot found their targets.
The person in the balloon basket said,
"I hope you don't mind me helping."
I said, "You're a stegosaurus!"
[MUSIC]
Fortunately, The Milk,
the most exciting book with milk in it
since Tolstoy's epic novel War and Milk.
