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

Aproximatly since postbg 151, bur niw |I'n a little bit wreccked and yea that was real typing>

*grins and passes Wumbeevil some black coffee*
Sorry, I forgot that, here you go

*pecks at the coffee*

Phew thanks Tinkerbell, you don't know how much I needed that.

Wher did Peregrin's wand appear from anyway?

*grins at Wumbeevil*
I thought you'd gone off to recover... you feeling more collected now?

Umm... I don't know maybe it was my fairy wand?

*groans at Tinkebell*

Still a bit wobbly, but I've got to get my liver and head into training for the next couple of weeks. Wonder if I can get a lottery grant, or earn some cash by appearing in a Reebok ad with a giant liver chasing a staggering kilted penguin around.

Nope it was definitely Peregrin's wand. I don't quite know how to ask this of you, but errr...well...if you could wave that magic wand... sort of in this direction...and accidentally return me to a state of nonpenguinhood...well I'd be eternally grateful for at least five minutes.

*gives Tinkerbell a sheepish grin, which is damned difficult for a penguin*

Considering that we are currently inhabiting a dream world, anything is possible....

*Suddenly huge liver appears and starts chassing the staggering kilted penguin around... finally the liver jumps of the walls of this huge castle into a river... Then 3 monkeys in white suits appear and give wumbeevil a holdall filled with 1million quid, and return to their task of rewriting dr seus...*

..rewriting dr seus?

*gasps in amazement*

You mean "Rude SS"..... "Achdung. Ve vill droppen ze knickerbocken unt barenzebottom at der Englander scweinhunden. Ein Volk, Ein Reich, Ein Furrybottom."

"Deutschland, Deutschland who bare asses......."

*marches the penguin army off to invade Poland*

*wakened by ongoin silence in the room*
'Zat it den? Is it all Uber Alice?

Liebensraum next door to Alice, Alice, who der fokker ist Alice.

*Understanding dawns on Wumbeevil* Did you just give me a million quid Fish?

Marches Penguin army back to the Ministry of Sleeping with promises of fish by the barrowload and a new GI Gill for the troops.

You know .."Uber Alice". They play her song every time Schumacher wins a race.

See now you mention Schumacher and as if by I reappear

*grins at Wumbeevil*
What would you like to be instead of a penguin WB? Hmm... how about a fruit bat? That provided amusement...not that I had anything to do with that...ummm... Well I have to warn you this is a new wand so I'm not entirely sure as to the instructions yet but I'll try and turn you back into your original wumbeevilly self...
*waves wand and waits as Wumbeevil stops being a penguin and reappears as himself*
There you go

Did you have a fun Christmas/New Year?

Err well, I don't think I want to be Michael the Cobbler, all those Ferrari fairies following you around asking you if you want to try out their new wands, and hitting you with the old three wishes routine.

I don't really want to be a fruit bat either, you know what all that roughage does to the bowels, and if you're hanging upside down.....well need I paint you a picture? *Decides that a gymnastic fruit bat may well be able to paint a picture, but can't find his leotard (with escape hatch) to put this theory to the test*

Err Tinkerbell, i don't want to sound ungrateful or anything about you turning me back into myself, but was I really Ann Widdecombe before I changed into a penguin?

Ugg.....

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AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

I drempt that there was a trying to feed a Pig.... and there were strange evil words floating before my eyes......

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The rather brilliant couplet of 'there others' and 'Carruthers' was, for me, overpowered by the insinuating snowfall, which visually speaki.....zzzZZZ
*falls under spell*

*grins*
See now I have a theory Mr Wumbeevil, that no-one would have found that unless they were actually looking for the Ms Widdicombe website...so I think you need to be thinking up a plausable excuse

*Tink. It's a big secret but in RL Wumbeevil sings for the ladies on Tourboats. No doubt she gave him her card.*

Damn, hoist with my own petticoat. She's got me jwf.

How do I get myself out of this one? Fairies always know when you're lying, so it seems that the only solution lies in telling the truth no matter how implausible.

*screen goes all wobbly as Wumbeevil slips into his RL persona, in a fetching flowery marquee/dress from Marks & Spencer's "normal" range. He slings a rancid turbot into the ladies loos to give the occupnats a bad name and begins to confess all......*

It all began the year I was accidentally confined in Carstairs State Hospital whilst wearing a cape and jumping thru windows in search of potential victims. It had been a tough year for vampires as possible meals were getting scarcer and scarcer. Yes, some people call me a moron, but I am more commonly called "The Count". . . damn these typos, sort it out yourselves, I can't be bothered.

During my incarceration I learned a certain fact about Ms Widdecombe that immediately grabbed my attention. Here was my next victim, and what a victim at that. She could keep me stuffed to the gills (sorry ) with Red Blood Cells for an entire year. Thus I started my research into her habits and lifestyle, looking for a chink in her armoured knickers so that I might sink my fangs into that lovely soft neck.

However as time passed and I learned more about Ms Widdecombe, it became obvious that this was going to be no easy meal.

Upon my release from Carstairs, after three weeks of eating puree to fool the doctors, I walked by the howling Vegetable rights protestors with a stiff Resolve in my stomach. I was going to get that woman, no matter what it took.

After undergoing radical plastic surgery, my plan succeeded and I got within striking distance of that lovely white throat. Yes, dear reader, that was no ordinary pig in that photo, that was a Transformed Glaswegian Vampire Pig.

However at this point my mind betrayed me (not for the first time some might say), those weeks of study had instilled in me some empathy for my intended victim. Try as I might, I just could not bring myself to sink my porcine teeth into the exposed sweet white flesh you see in the photo. Instead I could only direct grunts of love and admiration at her, and whilst violins played, she responded likewise. Thirty seconds later my dear sweet Ann was removed from the Vampire's Most wanted list for all time.

Owing to her position as a public figure, we both realised our affair was doomed from the outset, and that our wedding would never appear as a picture spread in the middle pages of Pig Farming Weekly. We could not tear ourselves away from each other , so what to do? Again I underwent the pain of plastic surgery for months and am now frequently seen in public with my beloved Ann (and not as a stunt double). Yes I am now Carruthers....

.....and jwf, in Ann's life There are NO others.
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