When Robinson Crusoe returned, he found that someone had gone through his stuff.

Robinson rubbed his eyes. Wasn't that his Encyclopedia Britannica? And there: the rare recording of "Relax – Wagner for meditation", sleeveless in the sand! He sprinted towards the palm trees, where he had built his studio apartment.

Oh no! The place was a mess. His collection of vintage plastic bags, his disposable coffee cup lids, and the shirts he had carefully woven from coconut fibers and monkey nose hair - all one big clutter.

The worst sight was the office: ransacked drawers, his goat leather couch dirty with chocolate, his typewriter gone. Robinson closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In, out, in, out – relax. At least they hadn't taken his record player.