Ffloyd, seeing you look at the cassette deck,
says sadly, "Oh, my.  Would you like to listen to 
some Waylon or Kenny?  I certainly would.  Unhap-
pily the batteries have died and I have been unable
to obtain new ones.  But here, I'm sure you must
be starving.  Let me find you some food."
   He scampers up a ladder into the next room and
returns in a few minutes bearing a tray loaded with
papayas, coconuts, and some cold rice.
   "Tell me," you ask.  "Where did you get your
English accent?"
   "The explanation is really quite simple," Ffloyd
says.  "I was educated by English missionaries, a
lovely old couple from Oxford.  Too bad about 
them."
   "What happened?"
   "They were snatched away by a raiding party
from another island, a nasty, nasty bunch.  I fear
that my friends were turned into missionary stew.
But enough sadness.  Tell me about yourself and
how you came here."

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