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

I see that the has been having an effect on you. If you had but chanced to look out of the door you would have noticed, before being narrowly run over by that crazy yob on the motorcycle, that this here Inn is located in a quaint little village, which bears a striking resemblance to Port Merion in North Wales. I don't believe there are any jam filled rubber balls bouncing around out there, but I am going to stay in here for safeties sake.

This tinsle doesn't burn very well, does it?

I do not leer at young girls. If you want to talk, however, about real grown-up women with accents that sell Renaults, well...guilty as charged.

Talking of guilt, this frightfully sweet young lady (be nice) is from the village, from where, if you recall the s complete with tinsel, fairies and baubles, were 'acquired'. So I suggest that we either try and get her drunk as quick as possible, or distract her attention pdq.

*Points* Look Elvis!
*Throws coat over . Realises that that one was in fire. Hastliy retrieves coat, and throws it over a non-burning . Sits down again, pausing only to throw a bauble into the fire place*

"Quelquechose a boir?"
See - a bit of suave bribery is the answer...and don't keep drawing attention to the ...d'Oh!

Here, I've just remembered, its St. Andrews Day. Quick break out the Malt and we'll have a drink to the mans arm.

Now then nice young Phillipa, can we get you a drink?

(***stares uncomprehendingly at the row of empty malt whisky bottles***)

This post has been removed.

I am but a humble bar staff person, and much as I like to dream, such fancies as I saw there are well beyond the strings of my purse. The Landlord, of course, has another tale to tell, but he is long gone. I am not even sure of any wages this month, and may well be obliged to start selling s. (SH**!!, sorry, just slipped out). Its a good thing that reporter fellow is still asleep!

I think that reporter fellow may not be well at all - he hasn't snored for a couple of hours now....shall we prod him with a suitably long stick?

No, don't wake him, we will get headlines all over the place "Mystery disappearance sex-change s. Vicars daughter accused." etc. (Is it compulsory to get 'sex-change, vicar and accused in every headline, or just on sundays?)

Wait til the fire stokes up a bit, and we'll have "Mystery disappearance sex-change tabloid journo. Vicars daughter accused"

Oh, hi Phillipa, how's your dad?

I think it's far too early in the morning for any "how's your father" related humour.
By the way - it's awful quiet in the village (and surrounds) today. Its not some kind of holiday or something, is it?

*Raises head blearily from table*
Well, apparently its the national day of the Central African Republic but you'll not catch me involved in any of that sort of stuff. I don't suppose we have some aspirin, and maybe a couple of barrels of water. I'm feeling a little under the weather at the mo'
*Returns head carefully to its resting place*

(nice one DJ!)

Excuse me wainscotted one, but is there a connection between your present state of health and the severe lack of Malt Whisky in this bar? And might there be a further connection between the severe lack of Malt Whisky, the quietness of the village this morning, and your apparently newly acquired wealth as evidenced by your colourful chest enclosure?

Urrrrr. Could you say that again with less words please, I seem to have developed a very sore head. I don't know how, I sat down for a few wee drams for St. Andrews and then I woke up here.

*Sits. Crosses her legs. Smiles sweetly.*

Yes, I'd like some , thanks and Dad's all right.

Aha, Phillipa seems suddenly more interesting! Please have a if not

Now you come over here (**pats bar stool**) and talk to uncle pheroneous.

(**desperately signals to others to stand in front of remaining tree**)

[Phillipa]

*Goes to the indicated barstool and perches on it, lifting her . She begins to sip, but her eye is caught by the in the corner.*

Pheroneous? That is a very pretty tree you've got there.

*attempts bluff*
Aha Pheroneous, keeping my tree well for me, are you? Oh good - it looks warm there next to the fire.....

*resorts to downright lie*

Thanks are unnecessary, DJ, and you will see that I have spent many happy hours decorating it with gaudy balls and tinsel. But a small part of the services supplied by bar staff here.

Now then Phillipa, pray turn around, and study this handy pack of etchings I have here behind the bar.

*Surfaces. Spits out bauble he would appear to have been chewing on in his sleep* Urrr. I feel much better after that.
So, December, best get some practise in, to stop my liver from being surprised by the coming festivities. I'll have a , plenty of iron to keep me going.