On Memorial Day morning, 79 year old Edith Herring of Beacon Hill, Massachusetts, leapt out of the window of her home in a death defying bid to recapture “Timmy,” her wanderlusting canary. While Timmy knew quite well how to fly, Edith did not and consequently augured into the gravel driveway two stories below. She had defied death for approximately three seconds.

At the time of her passing, Mullet McGuffin was the fat and happy - and broke - bartender at the Red Herring Tavern in Boston. For reasons known only to her, Edith bequeathed her estate to him, which estate included the Red Herring, a beachfront cottage in Chatham, a mansion on Beacon Hill, a sizable investment portfolio. And Timmy.

Mullet chose the one year anniversary of Edith’s death to visit the beach home she left to him for a week of relaxing in the sun and surf, sampling the food Cape Cod is so well known for, and mingling with its friendly denizens. Sadly, its friendly denizens didn’t get that memo. Over the course of several days, Mullet is arrested for burglarizing his own home; arrested again for the murder of a woman who died before he was born; mauled by a vicious law enforcement corgi; routinely spied and squealed on by a crazy neighbor lady; hexed by a kitchen rug; and almost arrested again, this time for possessing property belonging to NASA that proved the existence of life on the moon. When he finally gets away from the hell hole that is Chatham, Massachusetts . . . he does so in the custody of the FBI.