Say, hypothetically, this Thursday, Alice takes a stroll. Upon tumbling down an enormous rabbit hole, she is startled to be so rudely snatched from the warmth of the New Zealand summer.
Upon surfacing from her journey through the centre of the Earth, her bewilderment is compounded by the drizzly sky and dank air of a North Western American city. The grey haze reminds her of Hamilton in winter. The hipsters and longboards and ubiquitous artisan coffee shops could almost be central Wellington.
Say, hypothetically, Alice then trips on an edge and sweeps the concrete footpath with her chin. As she lies on her belly with grazed hands and knees, her eyes focus on a tiny green ball in the crease of a gutter. She reaches and picks it up, nursing the ball in her stinging hands, when the firm hand of a Seattle police officer seizes her from above.
"Marijuana!" he cries, as Alice stands up. "Ma'am, can you show me your medical licence?"
Of course, being from Auckland, Alice has no such thing. So she tells the cop the honest-to-God truth - she's fallen through a rabbit hole and somehow ended up holding a little green bud.