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

[sea] hey, whatever works, zeb. *whispers* you can use my lab if you'd like. just don't tell evillene where it is. we don't need any invincible invisible women running around.

*sea looks at her sister strangling NYC and sighs*

[sea] evillene. you like NYC. we all know it. stop trying to pretend you're some badass.

*evillene blushes invisibly*

[evillene] do not!!!

*evillene runs to the corner to hide*

[NYC] how did you know she likes me?

[sea] *shrug* it was a lucky guess.

*NYC's ego just grew to unmeasurable lengths*

And thats not all

I would like to take this occasion to point out several things

1: We Brits invented the language
2: This means we can say what we damn well please and still be speaking english
3: WE are obviously cleverer than you because we can cope with more than one word for HGV (Lorry, truck etc)

Ahem.

*Sits whimpering in the corner until his nose stops aching. Stands up. Ignites claws. Stands still, reflecting on his next move. Runs screaming at the teamsters (do you mean drivers???) and slices them all into human flavoured-sushi.*

That was my friend. *sobs*

Zeb: For your info, Heavy, a "Teamster" is a member of an international workers union, mostly composed (according to the stereotype) of truck drivers and workers who do a lot of heavy lifting. Also, it's not that we American's can't HANDLE a number of different terms for HGV(ie., truck, tractor-trailer, big-rig, etc.>...It's that the word "lorry" sounds, well, wussy. Rather than conveying the power and mystique of a bigass Mac Truck, it sounds like some kinda Model T with a frilly top on it that stuffy uppercrust-types take on rides through the country. And finally, don't get all sentimental on me about Gaarge. He'll be back. They always come back. Even Emar will get back to us, eventaully, and he's in just as bad a shape as Gaarge the Great.

don't forget "Semi". On the Ohio Turnpike I saw one of the new Kenworths hauling 3 full-sized trailers in tandom! On top of that it was going 75 with that load!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh. My. God. Did you put on a clean pair of pants?
(that is, undergarments)

*sobs even more at the mention of Gaarge's name*

*sea pats heavy on the shoulder gently*

[sea] it's all right... he'll be okay. really.

*sea wonders why the world has gone insane, then goes to find and heal gaarge (due to a deal made in another forum) and emar, who supposedly is gravely injured, and because of sea's laziness, the information will not be verified*

umm... can we get back to the topic of fighting?

<...Healed by sea, Emar pops out of his sack and immediately responds to NYC's question...>

Emar: No, please. No more fighting. I can only tolerate so much dismemberment.

*sea comes back from healing gaarge and emar and finds a nice, comfy chair to sit in*

I spoke to Gaarge on the phone. And he was NOT BEST PLEASED. Sleep easy, Emar.

You want fighting, NYC? I'll give you fighting.
*Walks up to NYC and headbutts him. Between the eyes. NYC collapses. UH dusts his hands*

interesting UH is Mr Goriff, I'm going to have a feild day with this when my conciusness gets back to the hanger

Too late, bozo!

foul! foul!!

*NYC trips UH as he returns to the disgusted fetid corner he came from. NYC then gets up and pulls out his baseball bat*

okay, now we fight.

actually, wait...

*NYC jabs UH in the gut as he turns around to face NYC, then trips him again with the bat. UH falls with a THUMP*

okay, NOW we fight.

*with a shy grin gaarge steps backinto the room*
Hi guys, I'm back!
*gaarge walks over to emar*
I'm sorry about everything I did, and *gaarge turns towards the villain crew* I'm sorry to all you guys, you wonderful guys!
*gaarge goes to all the evil people and hugs and kisses them*
And sea, I'm especially thankful to you.
*NYC takes time out of his fight to put on a soppy love song into his tape player, the song can be heard by all. Everyone goes quiet. Gaarge runs towards sea with arms outstretched, however, gaarge trips on the way, and hurts his nose on the floor. The moment ruined, everyone resumes the fight.*
ow
*sea blushes. gaarge starts playing a convieniently placed piano, today he plays music inspired by metallica*

nice, very nice. And on a piano too... wow

Suddenly, a strange force takes over Gaarge's hand and they begin to play acid-inspired demonic big-beat house classical on the piano. The tone is: Menacing and Oppressive, yet Strangley Exhillerating Tone No.3(tm).

Suddenly, a distant trambling makes itself known and the cameraman starts to wobble his camera, giving the immpression of a large, heavy, squat war-machine with innumerable big-bore autocannons, sonic MoFo(tm) minilaunchers and ultra-baddass (c) flamethrowers roaring down a narrow industrially futuristic tunnel, colliding with the wall and sending showers of sparks raining to the floor. Which, as it happens, is what it is. With an impressive *skrBBLLAAMMM*, the scarred USCM APC bursts through the wall in a shower of metal shards, its muzzles blazing and its barrels roaring. Skkridding to an axle-tearing halt, the battered hatch slams open and the suavest, (and indeed only) Xenomorph on H2G2 leaps out with pulse rifle ripping high velocity armour piercing rounds into the room, leaving *spang*ing holes in the walls.

As Giguschild nimbly lands he limbers his pulse rifle and backwards-somersaults onto the wall, off of which he catapaults himself in a gravity-defying leap onto the floor just past NYC. As he flies past in slow motion, Giguschild snaps out a hand and grabs the leg of NYC's recliner, causing it to spontaneously and viciously furl itself shut, with the nasty student still inside. Dodging air-ripping potatoe fragments from Zeb's wildly firing launcher, the Xenomorph pauses to adjust his Oakley's and launch himself, hissing, at the trucker holding the deranged shrew-puppet. The obese lorry-driver ducks and gibbers as the bespined shape flies overhead, and he frantically pushes the small piece of fabric off his pudgy hand and lurches away, frightenedly. Zeb feebly pulls himself towards the resurrected Emar with his weak arms, crying to him for help.

[Zeb]Emar! Buddy! Didn't I always say I liked you? C'mooon...I'll get you that cool Cyborg physique and all...GET OVER HERE!!

[Emar]*hurt* I know better than to trust you, you nasty, mean puppet!

[Zeb]*Glares hypnotically*Come to me....come...to...me...

[Emar]Oh darn. *Walks over and picks up Zeb* But be good, okay?

*Zeb's eyes start to glow an evil red*

[Emar] Poot...

[un-holsters his colt and aims at Giguschild]

As Giguschild flies through the air in slow motion Yo fires 2 shots from his .38colt hitting him in the shoulder and the left leg. As the bullets (special from Red) reacting with his blood explode (causing 1ft diameter holes) Giguschild screams out for help

Zeb- It appears the tables have turned my friend MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahah

Yo- [smirks]

[if you'll remember, Giguschild, NYC is currently standing up, and therefore NOT in his recliner]

*NYC watches Giguschild shut the recliner for no apparent reason. Giguschild, distracted as to NYC's being somewhere else completely, does not notice where the APC is headed, and promptly smashes into a nearby wall*

moron...