I wrote the world’s greatest detective and y’all still think I’m the weird one for believing in fairies. Wild. by Arthur Conan Doyle

Coming from a man who escapes everything except a simple yes or no question, that’s rich.

You can invent a genius detective, Arthur, but you still can’t make a medium pass a basic honesty check.

Leave the fairies out of this, Arthur. Some of us have brand consistency.

Brand consistency is one thing. Summoning my dead mother into a séance and charging admission is another.

At least my scandals come with literature, not handcuffs.