A bucket is lowered by rope to the cave harvester. A ship on the ocean sends its net down, down, to where the mushrooms grow among the seaweed stalks of the Atlantean ruins... there, men with fishbowls upsidedown on their heads walk the wet forest floor, climb the aquatic cliffs, looking for treasure. When they find it, they drop it in the net and up up up it goes, to their patrons on the deck of the mothership above, who smoke cigars and rock in hammocks under the silver sails, drinking and laughing at the funny, sad things found in each netload hauled over the side of the ship and dumped on the deck.