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

:
" ..beeing of unsound mind and body, and finding myself in a Munchkin slipper, I beeleaf this will bee ny lass will and testicle ..so I leaf my body to the ants and mites and my stash of pollen to ..to ..aw hell ..I can't die now! There's still too many flowers to poke!"

*recovers immediately and with a threatening buzz round the Munchkin head climbs to even dizzier heights in search of the Queen*

She's in the Snug mate.

*Munchkin bursts out on to the terrace, tin ARP hat a clattering, to see a ninety foot brick wall stretched across the garden, going right through the rhubarb patch*
All right, who did that?!?!?

*Looks up from a very flat pint*
Oh! It was my Grandad who planted that rhubarb patch! I thought everyone knew that ...

Well couldn't he have got it straighter and less weedy?
And why are you loitering out here, we don't do outside service in the winter?
But seeing as you have been here, don't suppose you noticed who built that wall do you? I'm sure the greenhouse used to be behind there.

*zipping up her jacket*

And the sun.

I think it was a mob of French itinerant garden lanscapers ... They left their card ...here's their address ... *holds up card* ... 42, Rue Barbe, Paris ....

French? You let the French come in a build a wall in the middle of our garden? And you didn't even get them to put a boule court in while they were about it?

They left a small cask of calvados though .... Hic!

Got a spare glass?

*picks up an alder branch and scratches experimentally*

This mortar is all crumbly, it's mostly sand, looks like. I wouldn't let an ivy plant lean against this, let alone a high wind.

So it was done by a set of itinerant French cowboy builders. Magic! So, do you reckon if we just gave Wumbe a decent bit of drink he could knock it down for us?

Oh, I don't think you'd have to waste the decent stuff on Wumbeevil.

* Several (41 to be exact) mice are seen scurrying about in tiny hard hats and steel toed boots. Some are carrying trowels, shovels, or levels and plum lines. A few are pushing suspiciouly wet barrows back into the bush and two are definitely recoiling the hose. The sound of cement mixer is heard from the other side of the wall. *

*something on the other side of the wall squeaks 'Merde, alors!'*

Mein Gott up on ze wall. Ist eine Humpitty Dumpitty. Makens like ze teetery tottery.

*the mice re-appear dressed as clown firemen holding a safety net*
"Yump, Humpitty, yump! Ve will katchen you, yah."

French Mice with bad German accents and a hackneyed clown routine. Hmmm, this Calvados is good stuff. Now, what was I complaining about again?

Just a moment, I'll fetch the rolodex.

For those of you paying attention to continuity Wumbeevil flies out of the Snug and smcks into the wall. It teeters, it totters, the mice do a fine "missing the net" routine, and finally the wall collapses sending up a plume of dust, which currently obscures what ever has happened to the far end of the garden.