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

* This stretch of Island is the future home of the Yapong Tribe. Winds howls past you as you look out to the West to the corral reefs about 200 metres out across the bay. Kelp rolls up onto the beach near your foot, it's vile smell is about the only thing that spoils a perfect retreat... *

* The promised cargo netting has been placed here, plus enough rice for 6 individual sittings... *

Gosh, looks like I'm the first to arrive
I am in the right place aren't I?
*dumps several large bags on the sand*
Wow, that smell is foul. I'll have to work on a spell to get rid of that...
*grins*
Guess it's first come, first served- now where's the best place to set up camp?

*drops his bags in the sand as well.*

Well, I saw Ox trying to build a shelter on the hills, but it was fairly windy up there. Perhaps somewhere not on the beach. That smell is awful!

*hang on a sec*
*closes her eyes and points her finger at the bay*
*there's a flash of light, and the smell dissapates, leaving only salt air*
There, now that's taken care of, where shall we set up?

Hey! Are Angel powers allowed? If so, I'm set.

I'm not sure about Angel powers- I think that goes against the reality-based rules.
But I'm a witch IRL, so I'm abiding by the rules

So.............
*dumps bags on sand and peers up towards the forest*
Right idea building a shelter up from here, but pity about the seaweed. Burning it would have kept away the flies (and the other tribe )

... my Mum said it would be a nice holiday. Nobody mentioned having to fly in a heli; nobody mentioned we had to walk; nobody ..
Oh hello. Is this the right place? Where's the beachside resort? I could do with a shower. What time's dinner? Why did you put the shelter up that way round?

Well, unless Tweet is a really good witch, you're out of luck.

By the way, did I mention I'm a demi-god and compulsive liar in real life?

Hmm. If you're telling me you're a compulsive liar, then what you're telling me is a lie, so you're not a compulsive liar, so that you're telling me .....
I think I've got a headache.
*Assembles a few rocks into an "A" shape - max. height about 80cm. Wedges net under top row of rocks and deploys it to extend away from the sea. Weaves leaves into net. Compares shelter with picture on 1994 stamp (2p - the modern army - set of four) from his album. Starts thinking about dinner again.*

* Quite a sturdy basecamp. However, once inside the floor of sand is more than a little irritating. Needless to say the wind flows quite readily through the opening gaps... *

* After the tribes good work in setting up a basecamp they spend an almost pleasant night in expectation of the new day ahead... *

*Checking the notes for the "army" stamp from his album*
In island locations, the direction of the prevailing breeze reverses in the evening, as the thermal conditions change ... So if I got that right, the wind will blow through the tent during the day, keeping me cool, but the stones will break the wind during the night....
I hate this sand getting in my clothes when I rest... I should do something about that ... and I'm hungry.
*Takes branch of driftwood, removes drawstring from bottom of anorak, pulls zip out of anorak fastener and bends it into hook. Fashions fishing rod. Goes to shoreline and casts line hopefully. While waiting, opens stamp album to; "Edible fishes of Oceania (Air Mail, 1956) and reads*

* Although a number of fish appear interested in the pure novelty value of the coloured metallic thing floating in the water, they were rather hoping some morsel of food would be the 'hook' they needed... *

B****y dumb fish!
*yanks hook from water with nothing attached to it. Mumbles very mild not-really-obscenities*
Why aren't they biting ... and I'm so hungry.
Hungry - that's it!
*quick trip to shelter and back - returning with a blob from his rice portion. It keeps falling off the hook. More mumbling.
Hand into pocket - self-adhesive stamp hinges - just the thing! Chews rice & hinges - produces revolting but sticky blob. It stays on hook. Tests in water. It stays on hook, dissolving very slowly. Casts loaded hook into sea. Licks fingers. Stomach rumbles. Moon rises*

* The fish take one look at the goo attached to the end of the fishing line, take at look at the large volume of plankton in the water, take another look at the goo with the head of the Queen mulched into less than flattering shapes...and they swim off giving chase to the canny plankton who were two steps ahead of them in the cunning department... *

*Returned from expedition, laden with goodies, somewhat k*******d. No fish on line ...yet. Small furry mammal hops up looking hopeful. K offers a bit of rice - some is eaten, still looking hopeful. K offers a mushroom. It is eaten entirely, and acknowledged with a small chittering noise*
I wonder when the team will come back? They'll want some breakfast, that's for sure.
*Cracks one nut on a rock - drinks the milk. Chews a bit of coconut. Hides nuts and mushrooms (No, I'm not telling where). Puts driftwood by side of shelter to dry, keeping one stout piece to ward off the things that go bump in the night (if any). Keeps an eye on the fishing rod.*
There's enough food for everybody to have breakfast.

* The audience applaud Kes's industrious efforts...and his generosity... *

Time to check the fishing!
*The "bait" is untouched. Slowly dissolving, it forms a thin gluey trail on the surface - rather like an oil spill in miniature*
Well, it's either quit, or double.
*Attaches a trial piece of coconut to the hook, and casts in a different direction*
My mum always told me - never say die. Then Dad used to creep up behind her whispering "Die, die". My mum always says - you can't beat a nuclear family, but I thought our house was all-electric.
*Muses on life*