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

pacify Marge after that awful staplegun accident last Monday morning.
And to think life had seemed so simple and carefree, nothing more to worry about than a slight frosting about the temples.
Perhaps this manifestation of Myrtle would find the rotting truffles a tasty distraction while she fretted over the black hairy legs still remaining from the spider episode.
How Fred wished those mauve weasels weren't watching his every move. On an impulse he tossed the truffles under the whirling unicycle wheels and turned towards Myrtle, only to realise.....

...that yes indeed, gray hair was showing at his temples.
"arrrggghhh" he cried, "now everyone will know my darkest secret..."

... That I'm really a Woman, he thought as he quickly turned away and poured a cup of coffee over his head in the hope of dying the stray lock back ANY colour except grey....

...Meanwhile the unicycling Pink Weasels escaped from their corner and came dashing across the moist yellow expanse of the Office carpet, before disappearing out of the nearest window at close to the speed of light, dropping two of their odd shaped juggling clubs in the process...

... Marge Screamed (again), and fainted dead away...

Thinking on his feet, whilst frantically scribbling notes on the soles of his shoes, Fred established the facts ...

It was monday, he was in his office and his son was living with his ex-lover and one true love. These things were certain - as was the grey hair. His green pants, previously considered the height of good taste and haute couture were being dissed by the Prime Minister and still the strange smell came from under his desk.

As the Albanian Field Mice fought for control of the corner currently occupied by the Mauve Weasels whose own progress was being hampered by the truffles, an uneasy thought coursed through Freds mind, like a spring chicken on Roller Blades ...

What the HELL had been in that cup of coffee?

As he shook off the Hallucinations, he realised he was really in a field of Brown Mice growing on Pink stalks as high as his chin. In the distance was a floating Windmill with Rainbow coloured sails. Approaching him out of left field was the only trace of normality - the Mauve Unicycling Weasels. Fred smiled and greeted them "Marge! My word its good to see you again!". Time slowed down as he started running towards her......

only to trip over a spare unicycle tyre, bump his head on brown mouse's tail and...

...realise that what he thought were hallucinations were not in fact hallucinations, and what he thought was reality was not reality, because he then remembered that he was really spending summer vacation on the Galapagos islands, where there is a distinct shortage of mauve weasels, unicycles and small brown mice. He settled back and decided

to re-establish his bearings.

Firstly: he wasn't in his office.
Secondly: even if he WAS in his office he didn't want to be.
Thirdly: his office wasn't on the Galapagos islands.

Which posed the following question: who's awful green shoes was he wearing, and did the corner shop up ahead sell hair dye?

There was only one way to find out. He grabbed a conveniently located bowler hat, concealed the errant locks, and started marching towards it, praying that the person behind the counter wouldn't recognise him and report him to

... Jack Pultitrude-Mulroney, arch-deacon of the 51st Fellowship of the Divine Followers of Rupert. Should they ever uncover his dark and secretive past, vengence would be sought. Thoughts of the potential impending punishment made his thighs water.

He quickly realised that the only way to avoid being recognised was through a series of cunning disguises. 15 years at the Clouseau School for Counter-Espionnage had prepared him adequately enough.

With the stealth and speed of a three-toed sloth on a caffeine high, he vaulted the conveniently positioned water trough and grabbed a passing swallow.

..of gin. This puts everything back into perspective, and he grabs a swallow ( of the bird variety), skins it, and covers his model car in it. No-one would ever know the difference! He sidles along, with the dexterity of an elephant after a good night out, to a bush nearby to the corner shop. Here he waits in utter silence, apart from the occasional cackle of glee, as he steers his model car towards...

Yet another change in tense....

AS his future self looks back through a TimeWarp he realises what mistakes he had made in his foolish scheme to get to the corner shop....

So, disguising himself as Jack Pultitrude-Mulroney he steps into the Time Warp....

*ok, I'll get right into this tense changing stuff*

The model car will shortly alight (it's the swallow effect kicking in) on the doorstep of the cornershop. The door will open, because...

"Velcome, Herr Pultitrude-Mulroney. Ve've been egspectig you", said the leather-clad Richard O'Brien look alike, casually swatting at technicolour flying voles with a length of yellow ribbon.

Glancing in his rear-view mirror, Fred could see the tell-tale grey lock peeking out from under his exquisitally adorned turban. Thanking his lucky stars that his nemesis was long sighted and therefore focusing on next Tuesday, he approached the walnut drinks cabinet and helped himself to a

Banana Daquiri - made from purple strawberries of course - turns around and notices for the first time that he seems to be the same height as a vertically challenged flying vole, and that the Dicky O'Brien look-a-like was actually talking to the Person who was just about to knock on the door next tuesday. So realising his luck at not being noticed he hitched a ride on one of the mauve flying voles and....

... skitled out of the nearest fire escape with the grace and guile of a hippo with a hernia. As he gathered his thoughts, loose change and loosened teeth together, he could hear the O'Brienbot repeating its catchphrase "Velcome, Herr Pultitrude-Mulroney ...".

He exhaled sharply, wondering why he'd been holding his breath - a mystery that would last well into the next posting if not longer.

As he stood there, in the darkened Alley Way, three questions coursed through his brain, pursued by his over active imagination:

Why was he wearing his pants inside-out and on the outside of his trousers?
Whose shadow was that he could see?
Why did he keep changing tenses?
and why hadn't he paid more attention in his maths classes?

He took a swig from the hip-flask of Absinthe he kept in his pocket and suddenly it dawned on him ...

Although why the sun was coming out of his hip-flask was beyond what his muddled brain could figure out.

Although the feeling of paranoia was easily explained when he noticed the numerous cameras, positioned

Strategically to capture his every move..... "Well they can't capture my Thoughts!" He triumphantly thought to himself (which we are able to hear via the miraculous BrainoCam&#8482...

Suddenly...

and embarassingly, he realised the cameras were not for him but for David Attenborough who was currently making a Galapagos island documentary on mauve weasels.

He decided then and there to write a complaint to a certain coffee company about hallucinogenic drugs, but before he could, a huge floating red heart bumped him on the nose, and he turned around to see...

That he was in the set for a Valentine's Day Massacre movie - the heart left a bloody trail as it slid slowly off of his face and onto his neatly pressed suit - contrasting nicely with the white linen.

This was the point when things started going really strange, as Fred would realise when he later looked back on his escapades.....