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

Oh, so it is not just the snughound? As we lack a Landlord at the mo' you'll have to submit your ideas to a committee. As I don't believe we have a committee for the back garden (didn't even know we had one, but nice to see it attracts a better level of refuse) you may have to from one first to discuss your plan. May I suggest discussing this with Pheroneous (any of them) as they are the closest we have to a person in charge. Certainly, I'm assuming that they are collecting all that money because they actually are supposed to.
Oh and DJ, mines a while you are buying you fine elderly hens ovulation.

Coffee is not necessarily such a good thing DJ.

So can we do some kidnapping now, please?

We could do, except the proposed kidnapee seems to have slipped out.
That's the problem with doing everything by committee - lacks the speed of response. This is probably why crime families and crime bosses are prevalent but crime co-ops aren't.

Well, if she comes back, sit on her. (Cruel to be kind!)

So how are we to avert the vengeance of the witch type person?? And we need some more wood for the fire. Hey, theres an old car outside, maybe the seats...

[Phillipa]

*Quietly puts down her glass of and begins edging for the door.*

Aha - I see you.
(Like many dinosaurs, BOFs visual accuity is based on movement)

Tell you what, Pheroneous can sit on the young lady, he seems to like that sort of thing, this gardening chap can do his thing out back and bring back some wood, DJ can continue his passable impersonation of a Tyranosaurus Rex (stop worrying the dog, you'll only wake it up!) and I'll snuggle down here by the fire, keep a watch that it doesn't go out by continuously poking at it and sup my pint. Does this seem like a good plan? All in favour say aye.

Yes - no-one behind the bar again I see.

[Phillipa]

*Grasps the doorknob with both hands...Door seems stuck.*

Ah, the damp has got at the door again. Pheroneous there will help you out, don't you worry. Now DJ, while you there I'll have an and then perhaps we can get rounto voting. We are never going to get anything done if we don't you know.

Right
Voting eh? These slightly soggy beamats could serve as ballot papers I suppose, certainly won't be getting any "pregnant chads" with that lot. Lets get the hand count out of the way first though...I have two.

(Don't suppose there's any danger Phillipa will notice that the door opens outwards whilst this voting is going on, do you?)

Its OK I'm sat on her! Stop wriggling! Second thoughts, don't stop wriggling!

** Ties Phillipa to remaining chair using two old (and rather greasy) neckties left behind by previous customers in moment of gay abandon**

You lot guard her, while I nip down to the Crossed Purpose place and put up a ransom demand!

Oi, we haven't voted yet!!
But then he has left the bar open again. Here's hoping he never learns

Well - that coffee leaves a ghastly 'alert' feeling in your mind

The deed is done! Drink up and be merry for tomorrow we will have all the trees in the village for fuel! Hope I didn't leave any clues as to identity etc.. We can always blame new young johnny lad!

The committee may be interested to learn that while digging around a bit in the garden (I wasn't starting the weeding yet, I was just burying "a little something" as Pooh would say) I have unearthed the partial skeletal remains of what would have been a fairly nice camel if the old committte hadn't given up on project Trojan...

Now just hang about a moment we haven't voted yet! As we are all here, we'll have a secret ballot.
*Closes eyes and sticks hand in air* all those in favour vote now. ... errr ... *Opens eyes* oh well never mind.
Now, would someone kindly explain project Trojan, or was this somethng the Landlord was involved with before we got here?

Apparently the old committe had plans to build a horse. There are sketches and blueprints in an old copper tube buried out there with the incomplete remains of what I am sure would have become a camel. These artifacts (arty-facts-chortle) may well be Victorian as it appears it was the horses "rump" that has been botched into a "hump".
I have re-buried these bones of contention and gone back to the Jag for a smoke.

Bit energetic, this fulton chappie! I think we may need a scapegoat, come the morning...and if he hasn't gone up in smoke completely by then...hang on a minute! Camels hump! Hidng place! Perfecto!