Except that I don’t know if sharks can vomit, and even if they can, this one isn’t. Down I go. Down, down, down. If I had a pocketknife, I could do some damage here, at least, maybe cut my way out. Escape from the belly of the beast. I don’t have a pocketknife. I buy them regularly at airports and then leave them behind next time I fly because you can’t take them in your luggage any more. But there’s a really fantastic one I got in Thun that time which had a USB stick and a welding torch. I mean, real actual tools. I could—