Meet Algernon "Algy" Piffle, a man whose greatest life achievement was alphabetizing his sock drawer and whose daily existence revolves around the soul-crushingly specific regulations governing the Majestic Crunch biscuit. His profoundly ordinary life in the aggressively normal village of Lesser Puddleton is shattered one Tuesday afternoon – not by the expected hyperspace bypass demolition, but by something far more insidious and, frankly, embarrassing: administrative error. Earth, it turns out, hasn't been scheduled for destruction; it's simply been misfiled somewhere between a nebula that hums show tunes off-key and a dimension composed entirely of lost luggage, all thanks to a faulty algorithm mistaking the spectroscopic signature of Algy's Great Aunt Mildred's biscuit tin for a high-level security code.

Suddenly abducted by a dented, literal-minded drone named Sev and reluctantly chauffeured by Zorp Glorbax, a cynical, six-limbed pilot whose species invented sarcasm and immediately regretted it, Algy must navigate the infinite, absurdity-laden corridors of the Grand Galactic Bureau of Archival and Retrieval. Armed with little more than a sensible cardigan and the cosmically significant biscuit tin, Algy and his unlikely companions must battle malfunctioning elevators, sentient office supplies, grammar-obsessed entities, and the soul-destroying inertia of bureaucracy itself to find Earth before it's recycled into novelty paperweights. Prepare for a journey where the fate of a planet rests on baked goods, the universe runs on questionable paperwork, and the kettle is always almost on, in this hilarious new adventure that proves normality is highly overrated (and possibly misfiled).