h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

*El Squid de Castilla leans forward, his cylindrical and pointy body/head tipping, and extends four tentacles to Purr in Boots.*

¡Buenos días! It is good to make an acquaintance of a mutual friend.

*He turns slightly and gives B4 one of those 'up-and-down assessement' looks.*

Where did you two personajes disímil meet? I cannot imagine it...

Verry amussing! Aiy wass engaged in a Holiday Pantomime ssponssorred by Asterroid Lil, Amy the Ant, and Garriuss Lupuss. It wass billed as "The Motherr of All Goossess" (A904961), an egg hunting adventurre with 'audience parrticipation', laced with an overrabundance of Brritissh humourr. Maiy Agent had booked the gig fforr a one-week sstint, and the Prroduction rran fforr almost a ffull yearr. Talk about rressidualss! SS-SSss-SS-SS-SSssss...

**Purr hisses in mirth, laughing in remembrance.**

Thiss guy… He wass one of maiy prrimarry hecklerrs.

**Purr puts up a paw to ward off any misgivings.**

Aiy rrealized early on it wass all in ffun. We eventually came to an understanding.

**He flicks his head to the right, and asks…**

And how did yeou ffall in with thiss hound dog…?

It was here, on the Beach, but it was hace mucho tiempo...

~El Squid de Castilla waves the proffered tentacles, as if to expunge the lost decade. This also relieves Purr in Boots of the obligation of trying to decide which appendage to shake in greeting, since it was a multiple-choice test.~

No. I begin again.

~He uses one tentacle to indicate a great distance away, and another points out toward the strand.~

I was between conquistas, taking el tiemop libre in my home seabed near Spain. Then there was a disturbio en el mar that had carried for leagues and leagues. My senses told me there were personages in trouble, perhaps en peligro de sus vidas. Their lives in danger, no? I took my beloved Sword Tizona in tentacle, strapped my Shield of Castille upon my back, and swam into the midst of the fray.

~El Squid uses various appendages to pantomime different actions, and it looks almost like a choreographed marionette theater in action.~

When I surfaced, I found it was merely a pie-throwing concurso. I became an ally to a furry criatura azul who was called, I think, The Pie Monstruo. Something near to that. There was a moment when Señor B4 and I were at odds... a point where he snatched my beloved Sword and sliced out a piece of my forehead...

~El Squid uses three tentacles simultaneously to point at the spot, from the right, from the left, and from below.~

You see the scar, si? ...and I almost stab him to death...

~Now El Squid curls two appendages around an imaginary haft of a sword (a third tentacle straightened and pointing downward), and starts to plunge it toward the ground. He stops the motion and flings his tenatacles wide apart.~

This tricky one...

~He furrows the skin over one large eye and squints it down.~

...he uses his computadora thingy to call his spaceship and whisks both of us up into the stars. We... Well, we cooled down and came to our senses. We talked. We discussed. We came to be amigos. And we journeyed the Galaxy for... ¡Ay caramba! Ten years? Una década? Inconceivable!

"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means..."

B4someoneaccusesmeofplagiarism

**Purr in Boots narrows both eyes, and they seem to glow from within, as he stares at B4.**

Yeou arre doing that 'obtusse humorr' thing again. Veiled rrefferrence to a ffavorrite ffilm, Aiy take it?

**He holds up both paws to stop B4 from answering.**

Rrhetorrical quesstion... Sso. Tell meow. What arre yeou doing herre, affterr all thiss time?

Pooh Sticks Competition...!

B4thecatasksevenmorequestions

~El Squid de Castilla looks at the twig B4 holds aloft for Purr in Boots to see. He turns to Purr, and thrusts out his sleek renditon of a Pooh Palo.~

Si! You see the difference in the competidores' rudimentary sailing craft?

~There are seemingly only crickets to answer the question.~

Let me explain...

~He pauses, considering.~

No. There is too much. Let me sum up...

~El Squid, launches into a monologue, tentacles undulating and weaving as he spins the tale.~

I have told you there was a Pooh Palo Competición, no? With sticks, si?

~He brandishes his whittled branch in front of Purr, and B4 does likewise, as a visual reference.~

It was interrumpido by a number of unintended minor events, and then it dwindled away because no one took action to comenzar el juego.

~Here, he hunches up all his tentacles at the same time and dips his head; a combined motion that can only be interpreted as a massive shrug.~

As we -- B4 and Your Humble Conquistador -- traveled the Galaxy, we conversed about the lost oportunidad. Only recently, we decided to return here and rectify this. We determined to terminar the Competición!

~El Squid raises his modified Pooh Palo high, with an eerie stretching of his skin to either side of his beak of a mouth. With a bit of interpolation, one can almost imagine it to be his version of a smile.~

Hey...! Here's an idea! Why don't you come along and join us? That way, it's not just me against him...
{B4 hitches a thumb at his chest and then points to El Squid.}

C'mon... Whaddaya say? We could hang out again, catch up on what's gone on in-between, maybe grab a nosh and something to wash it down with after we're done... Are ya in or out?

B4istartnetworkingwitheveryResearcheronHooToo

**Purr in Boots squints even more intensely. A low rumble starts in his chest, building into a very audible elongated purr.**

Yess. Cerrtainly. Aiy will avail meowself of thiss opporrtunity...

**He steps back to the Lifegaurd Hut and retrieves his black walking cane with a wolf's head crowning the handle. He finishes signing the paperwork with a flourish, pushes the sheaf across the window ledge, tips his hat to BlueBottle, then rejoins B4 and El Squid de Castilla.**

Lead on, MacDuff...!

{B4 waves them along and turns on his heel. He heads northward and follows the foot path skirting the western edge of Town, with The River flowing past them on their left. He strikes up the conversation as they walk...}

So, there have been a lot of changes in my life over the past...ten years? O.M.G. I can't believe it slipped by so fast. There have been births and deaths, mending and sundering of relationships, good times and bad times. This guy...

{B4 pushes El Squid, attempting to overbalance him. All those appendages make it impossible.}

...has been a good mainstay and sounding board throughout. In some respects, I'd say he helped me maintain my sanity during some pretty bleak times.

{B4 turns to Purr with an earnest expression.}

You've been on my mind a lot, as well. I was hoping against all odds that I might run into you again... And here you ~are~!

{There's an awkward silence among the trio for a few moments, and B4's gaze drops low to examine the construction of the path, rather than exude any more emotion. In due course, he glances over at Purr, reaches into his back pocket, pulls out a small leather flip-top case, pulls out a gold-tinted business card, and passes it to Purr.}

Go on... Take it. It's got info on it to lead you to my Author Blog and to the place you can get copies of my books.

Don't look at me like that. I'm pretty sure I told you I'd be writing...when we took breaks in the Dressing Room during the Panto. No? Well... Take a look at the websites. Probably next year I'll have another set of compiled short stories available. Two of them will feature cats...so ~that~ should draw your interest. One is titled after you, "Purr in Boots: A Fairytale Retold," but the main character is a young lady who has been transformed into a cat. The other is titled, "Beginnings," and a section of the story is a reporter's interviewing of a cat-lady...and how those cats wind up with her. Anyway, give me a browse online, if you know how to use a computer...

B4itotallydominatetheconvowithmyselfpromotion

**Purr in Boots examines the business card, holding it in his right paw, using the walking stick with his left. When he's finished with the front, he flips it over and reads the back. His whiskers twitch and he mouths silent words for a few paces, then reads aloud...**

“The young lady, Emmaline, would often find some small way to get the attention of Kohlar, the young man who was enamored of her, sometimes asking him to do incredible feats to prove his commitment to—”
“Is this the tale of Emmaline and Kohlar where she sends him to defeat the Trolls of Umbarbridge, he gets caught, and she has to distract them with riddles until daylight? I’ve heard this one.” Rhiannon slouched and crossed her arms over her bosom.
“No, Miss, this is a tale of their later Annos. I have a notion you’ve yet to hear this story, since most Weavers won’t tell it, because it leaves their audience with such a feeling of disappointment at the ending.”
“Well, you’ve practically given it away, now haven’t you, Sir Gavin.” She grimaced and rolled her eyes, not believing he’d be so clumsy a storyteller.
In the dim light, Gavin took note of her expression. Nevertheless, he pressed on. “Now, Miss, just because one can guess the nature of a tale doesn’t make it any less worth the telling. One might even find a treasure they’ve missed before, or see a glimmer of true things therein…”

**Purr halts in the path, looks over at B4, and asks...**

Thiss tiny ssnippet on the back... Iss it ffrrom a sstorry?

Why. Yes. It. Is.

That's from my first fantasy novel, "Chasing the Dragon." The whole process took me about 35 years, from the first idea until I published it in 2017.

C'mon... I'll tell you about it while we head for the Bridge.

There was this girl I knew in High School, and she was artistic. We dated for a while, but we were more like brother and sister... best of friends, okay? There was one time when she drew a set of pencil sketches for me -- two separate pictures. The first panel depicted two figures; a young girl wearing regal robes and a flowing veil, facing a crouching dragon. She seemed unsure of its motives. Perhaps it would kill her and eat her; perhaps it would tell her a story. The second panel had two figures -- two dragons -- springing up to fly away together, but one was wearing a long flowing veil.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Vivid, right? I told her that, with just a few strokes of her pencil, she had set a story in motion. I told her that I was going to write the whole story someday. She responded with, "Yeah, sure you will." I swore to her I would... and I did... but it took about 35 years.

I scribbled some notes on a sheet of paper. When I got my first computer, it was a Commodore128. I bought some 'office productivity' software that included a word processor. I then sketched out all the chapters I wanted, with the direction of the story, and turned it into an Outline. I had written the first three chapters and had copious notes for all the rest when the unthinkable happened.

There was a de-gaussing accident. A child with a school report wiped the dust off the monitor, then touched the keyboard. Electro-Static Discharge! Right into the core processors of that old machine. It wiped out the IC Chips for a section of the keyboard, so I couldn't type in the commands to run any software, or to even boot it up anymore.

The computer was just a glorified paperweight, so I gave all the parts to the Salvation Army, and tucked the 5-1/4-inch floppy disk into a little white cardboard box for safekeeping. It traveled around the world with me for almost a decade before I tried to retrieve it. I had to buy all the same pieces of the Commodore system from individuals who still owned them, and I cobbled it together in like fashion to the original.

Then, while El Squid and I were knocking about the Galaxy, we'd take breaks to work on regenerating the story. I would boot up the antiquated Commodore128, read the story from the CRT, and Squidward would transcribe like mad. I suppose those extra appendages can come in handy sometimes.

Anyway, got it into this generation's document format, and then puttered around with it. Then in 2012, I ducked into National Novel Writing Month and used the 'deadline' of writing 50,000 Words in 30 Days with 0 Excuses as the impetus to finish writing the rest of it. Once that was done, I took time to edit and clean it up, then used a major online Print On Demand and eBook company to turn it into a tangible product. When I held the first printed copy of the book in my hands, I did cartwheels across the floor.

Since then, I've published two more books: a collection of terror tales, and a book of poetry. All-in-all, sales are slow but steady. Evidently some folks like how I craft stories.

Anyway,that's the big on-going thing in my life...

...and look! We're at the crossroads that leads to the Bridge...

B4someoneclassifiesmeasatimemachinethatmakesitseemlikeablinkofaneye

Ciertamente. It is true, we have arrived. But it does not appear we are alone together...

~El Squid de Castilla pauses at the thought, debating whether the syntax is correct, then presses on.~

Such a lenguaje irritante! Ahem... There seems to be A very LARGE Induhvidual standing on the far side of the Town Bridge.

~El Squid scratches behind the triangular flaps on either side of his head with several appendages.~

This place... It is known for being a bit diferente...? A bit fantástico...? A trifle mágico...? This would perhaps explain the talla of this human...?

[[ SETTING ]]
The Town Bridge spans neatly across The River, arching just a bit like a dog that's waking from a dream of chasing rabbits. On both banks, there are trees that come right up to the foundations of the Bridge; sparse on the Town side, more dense and shadier on the Western side. The railings afford ample opportunity to see the River below because of the openness between the evenly spaced uprights and the three sets of horizontals that run the full length on either side. For most folks, the top rail would be approximately chest height, though the lower rungs of railing could allow one to clamber up and lean over. For the very LARGE Induhvidual, the top rail is just at knee level. The nearby trees provide a chiarascuro dappling of sunlight and shade, even out onto the center of the Bridge, because the trees stand so tall and flare their limbs out so far.
[[ /SETTING ]]

{B4 cranes forward, and takes his pace up a notch to a brisk gambol.}

Hey! Tall Guy! Yo! Very LARGE Induhvidual...!

{mutters to himself} Let me see... What was his name? What ~was~ his n-- Oh, yeah.

Heeeeey, BAILEYWICK...!!!

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:: LARGE has been slumped over the railing of the Bridge, trying unsuccessfully not to tangle his hair in the lower branches of the trees. At the sound of his name -- bellowed from the other end of the Bridge -- he leans back and rises up. This puts his face in amongst the sprigs and twigs at the end of a large limb, and bits of it crumble and tumble as chaff, sliding off his shoulders onto the Bridge and into the River. He bats the branch out of the way and a section of the limb snaps off. It splashes below and is taken dowstream by the current in a lazy meandering fashion. ::

Oh... Now looka wot ye made me do!

:: He turns fully on B4 and focuses. Recognition plays across his face. ::

Oho! Master B4! Is it really you? It has most assuredly been a long time. Perhaps not long enough, eh?

Hey-whoa, Big Guy! Didn't mean to startle you...

Um... You know that log you just sent down-river doesn't count toward the Pooh Sticks Competition, right?

How've you been, Baileywick? Still working as the Concessionaire over at the Theater, or have you just been kickin' around the Ffordian Rift this whole t--

B4Urealizeiamplayingbothparts

>>Urk!<<

:: LARGE swallows a gulp the size of a whale and shakes his head. ::

Please, Sir... Do ~not~ mention that place... Not the Atelier or the Theater, but the ~other~ place...

:: His normally ebullient demeanor plunges into dark introspection. The hand he had extended in greeting toward B4 now trembles. The shiver spreads through his whole body, and he has to shake it off, almost like a dog shakes to remove water. Once it passes, he is calm, placid, his normal stoic self. His perpetual smile reemerges and wavers only once before beaming forth continually. One can sense he's mentally changing gears. ::

A Pooh Sticks Competition? Truly? Are you all here for that? Who sanctioned it? Where are the Judges? What are the prizes?

[[ CONTINUITY ]]
Mister B4 had been doing so well... up until now. A very LARGE Induhvidual gently pushes him aside from the keyboard and points to a chair across the room.
[[ /CONTINUITY ]]

I beg your pawdon, Sir, but I do believe I can speak for myself!

:: LARGE finds an unused, unsharpend pencil. He grips it lithely between his thumb and forefinger and taps out his message by poking the keys with the eraser end. ::

>>Urk!<<

:: LARGE swallows a gulp the size of a whale and shakes his head. ::

Please, Sir... Do ~not~ mention that place... Not the Atelier or the Theater, but the ~other~ place...

:: His normally ebullient demeanor plunges into dark introspection. The hand he had extended in greeting toward B4 now trembles. The shiver spreads through his whole body, and he has to shake it off, almost like a dog shakes to remove water. Once it passes, he is calm, placid, his normal stoic self. His perpetual smile reemerges and wavers only once before beaming forth continually. One can sense he's mentally changing gears. ::

A Pooh Sticks Competition? Truly? Are you all here for that? Who sanctioned it? Where are the Judges? What are the prizes?

Iff Aiy had meow way about it, the main prrize would be a larrge plate of calamarri...

**Purr turns his gaze toward the Squid of Castille.**

PURR...!!! Manners...

B4someonehas2callHR