Astral Alan Watts

 'So Dave's got a third eye.  I wonder if it's an Xray one and if he can use it to find the treasure.' 

'Kind of like a metal detector.'  I pushed eight sizzling rashers of back bacon round the frying pan.

'Yes.  Without the kit and having to get permission from the landowner.'

'Quite.  Brown sauce or red on your sandwich Geoffrey?  Or perhaps throw caution to the winds and have both?'

'Ooh red I think.  I'd go for both only we mustn't cross the streams.  Put plenty butter on as well.  And black pepper.'

'Okey doke.  Mind you Dave says he's not into material gain these days, he's gone all metaphysical after his stay in the sweat cottage.  He says he met Alan Watts on an astral plane and the current was too strong for the wire and all the fuses blew, he couldn't even make a cup of tea.  Apparently he was wearing a kaftan and smoking a spliff.'

'Dave?'

'No.  Astral Alan.'

'Blimey.'

'Quite.  Nevertheless I think it would be worth asking Dave to deploy the third eye, or at least give it a go, otherwise we'll be digging and dowsing to an extent I can't be arsed with.