Clicking on the recorder, Daffy began. “Thtatement of Maxthimilian Goof, regarding…uh, how would you dethcribe it?”
There was no answer. Glancing over, Daffy realized Max was still attempting to draw something. He prompted him. “Mithter Goof?”
Max jerked his head up and blinked at him, obviously startled. “Oh—what?”
“Your exthperienthe,” Daffy repeated. “How would you…uh, thummarithe it?”
“That’s just it. I’m trying to draw you a map, but it doesn’t…it doesn’t work.” Max sounded bewildered, almost pathetic.
“Right.” Daffy decided to do his best with what he could glean from Max’s appearance. “Thtatement of Maxthimilian Goof, regarding a new door in a houthe he wath buying. Thtatement recorded direct from thubject, firtht of October, two thouthand thixthteen. Thtatement begins.” He waited, but when Max just kept scribbling, he prompted him. “Mithter Goof?”
“There were no left turns,” Max said. “Look, none.” He threw the pencil down and waved the paper at Daffy, too fast for him to see. “It doesn’t make any sense. It wasn’t a spiral, because you could move forward—I mean, that’s mostly what I did, but the hallways didn’t get any shorter like they were going towards a center and they only turned right, you couldn’t turn left, and that doesn’t make any sense. Look at it.”
“Maxth,” Daffy began. Obviously using the last name wasn’t getting through.
“Look at it!” Max insisted.
Daffy sighed and took the paper, studying it. “Yeth, I thee.