Brick

You’ve reached the voice mail of Ben Pol­lock. I can’t answer the phone right now because I’m float­ing above the Ozark foothills inside a bal­loon — which explains my high-pitched voice — look­ing for radioac­tive rab­bit drop­pings.

If you now must ask Where the Wild Things Are, they’re eat­ing sup­per in their room. And it’s still hot.

Please leave a mes­sage after the pop.