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

*points - The screens for departures are over there *

*With much bowing and presenting of identity papers etc ad nauseam, followed by a silent but apparently very efficient safety screening of much luggage by big machines discreetly labelled with CLI logos, the Count of Rabbitforest, Ambassador of Danevang to The Royal Court of Damogran makes a travelworn but satisfied entry to the castle.*

Wow - - very nice and impressive, indeed!

*a kilt-wearing bot hovers from out of nowhere and kindly offers to lead the way to an appropriate, not over-done, guest room with a view to the sunset over the fields on the western side*

*the librarian owl flies slowly over the horizon, weighed down by his bulding satchel full of this and that. He spirals to the ground and greets the screening people, being ushered relatively quickly through*

Wonderful castle.

*takes off satchel, removes various items from it and sits down for a rest*

*floating in, dressed in her adventuring gear; dark green silk long-sleeved blouse, a vest made from the softest light brown suede, as are the matching calf-length skirt and knee-high boots with thin straps of leather wound around to keep them up*

*she's armed with bow and arrows with what seems like colour-coded feathers*

*glares at the screening people*

[Lentilla levitates into the room, dressed in her Mary-Poppins best, complete with levitating brolly and infinitely large attache case.] Ah, what a nice castle. Not as drafty as I like, but I can appreciate the snapping gators in the moat.

[Glances at the screaming people, realizes that they're really screening people, and looks away.]

*Agapanthus rides in on a Standard-Horse-for-Narrative-Purposes. Having fulfilled its role, it vanishes when she gets off it. She is wearing a plum-coloured riding habit, carrying bulging saddle-bags, and her pet thesaurus rushing hither and yon, sniffing at people and pretending to be adorable.*

Hello, all. Any chance of a cup of tea?

*wanders in, wearing all-purpose leather armour, and carrying what appears to be a oak staff, but which is actually hollow and filled with whisky. A short sword hangs at the belt, for appearances sake*

Right, who bought the fags? Not for me you understand, but trust me, Malboro Reds are the way to 2legs' heart (not to mention his lungs).

*rummages through the items removed from his satchel and produces the cigarettes, plus a sonnet for Roget to munch on*

Ah ah, I just want to know we've got them, I don't want to *see* them. Far too tempting.

*Roget tries to lick David enthusiastically*

Get DOWN Roget. Down. Sit. Now say thank you properly.

*Roget warbles: 'acknowledgment, benediction, blessing, credit, grace, gramercy, gratefulness, gratitude, praise, recognition' and then spends the rest of the day trotting about with the very damp sonnet hanging out of his mouth.*

Ah. Right. *flutters around in a confusing fashion and hides the ciggies from KA as he does so*

Hey Roget! Guess what naughty Aunty Kerr's got for you?

*slyly waves a copy of 'Viz' behind Ag's back*

There. That should teach him some new words.

*dives towards Roget to avert a potential disaster*

Spoilsport. Boy's got to learn sooner or later, otherwise he'll always be an incomplete thesaurus.

Hmm. Just make sure you behave while I'm away from the castle later...

*hands the only slightly chewed Viz back to Kerr and takes Roget for a brief stroll*

Lunchtime? Oh good. Anyone else fancy joining me for a liquid lunch? Whisky of your choice available.

Ooh, any chance of a Whisky Mac? Oban and Crabbie's for preference.

*Removes smash-proof glasses from backpack*.

See, just unscrew the top of the staff, and any whisky-related product of your choice will pour forth.

Mine's a Talisker.

Welcome everyone. It's nice to see that so many of you have already made it. I hope you are all settling in comfortable. If there's anything you need, be sure to ask.

GPoLA

*Kat saunters in with her small red leather suitcase and her crate behind her. She has a short moment of difficulty with the screening people before convincing them that she is not a smuggler*

I did better than a packet of fags. I brought bundles of them, plus a load of medical articles and journals on tape. Hopefully they may make a slightly good impression?

*she sighs and hands the suitcase to a servant*
No chance of a Bailey's Coffee around here is there?

*sashays in, wearing a trenchcoat and smiling at the screen people*

I was told by the agency to report here for a legation. What kind of leg is thayat? I git to carry a present and meet some gorgeous hunk of a king, that's what the mad--uh, my boss said.

*tosses her long hair back and looks at the other people in the room appraisingly*