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

I'd say that it has reached last orders at the pub now and all the lodgers are gathered round the fireplace to hear tales of buried treasure Like the keys i lost in a sandpit

You might like to say that but we NEVER have last orders in here

Stories and tall tales of daring and high jinx however are common place ...


* refills everyones glasses *

:: makes his last order...

...of this day, that is ::

If you want, I can tell a story of horror and hidden treasure.

The Man Who Needed A Doorstop

Gregory St James was finally dead. His partner in crime, his wife Gloria, had gone the way of all things not five days previous to his death. Gloria’s remains were carried into her family crypt after a funeral attended by few. The news of her tragic death reached St James while his ship was anchored off the coast of Crete. She had been found unconscious by an assistant in her office and taken to the hospital where doctors said she died from apparent stab wounds. After reading of her passing, Gregory apparently leapt from the boat into the shark-infested waters in the early hours of the morning.

Their operation was simple, though grotesque. Gloria, at her London base, practiced her veterinary skills by taking in stray cats and dogs, surgically opening their abdomens, and inserting small packages of precious stones. Gregory would then carry a dozen or so animals on his cargo ship under the guise of effective ratters whom all the while were carriers for the St James smuggling operation.

Their venture was discovered after his death when a packing crate inadvertently crushed one of the cats and it’s jeweled belly was exposed. Rumor had it that St James was in Greece to put on the market a massive shipment of Emeralds, stolen from the Emperor of China. That cache was not found in the search of either Gregory’s stateroom or Gloria’s apartment. Inspector Harold Fletcher was without a lead other than a letter in the waste bin of her flat in which Gregory had invited his wife to join him in Greece.

In the days before and after Gloria and Gregory’s deaths, Scotland Yard received two mysterious tips. The first was from Posey Cartwright, a parlor maid, who saw a man and a woman enter the James Veterinary Office in the wee hours of the morning one day before Gloria’s death. The second was by Laurence Hasp, a deacon at the church where Gloria’s funeral (and later, Gregory’s) had been held. Hasp said that after the services had concluded and the mourners departed, a man fitting Gregory’s description was seen walk to the coffin then hurriedly depart when Hasp’s presence became known. That incident was eight days after Gloria’s death.

Working on a hunch, Inspector Fletcher contacted the Travel Bureau and was informed that travel from Crete to London, by a complex and continuous land and water route, would take four days. Suspecting Gregory had a hand in his wife’s undoing, he and a band of officers broke into the crypt where Gloria had been entombed. Upon opening the door, the corpse of Gregory St James tumbled out. Apparent cause of death had been suffocation. The coffin in which Gloria had been laid to rest was open, as was the fatal incision in her abdomen.

Fletcher blamed the incident on poor foresight in crypt construction, but then again, how often do they need to get out?

*listens to Mr C's story - wonders if that's why the ship's goes 'chink' when it moves*

*gradually, the tiny pink fireball in the firplace expands into a glowing sphere a couple of feet across, then quickly shrinks to nothing leaving a pleasant fire in the grate and the bricks behind smooth & glassy - they go 'pink' now and again as they cool*

*goes to the kitchen to make noodles*

*Thinks Mr C. must be a very keen cook if he makes his own noodles. Hopes he makes enough for all.*

well, if he makes spaghettis or makaronis or somethings long like that all you have to do is make knots with them. then you will have all the noodles you want

yes, i know - i'm a knot

*emerges from kitchen wheeling a cart holding bowls, spoons, forks, and a large pot of Top Ramen with sliced grilled chicken*

*smells food*

:Zog immediately hides the pot noodles so they don't feel upstaged:

We don't want a pot noodle mutiny now do we?

I ate a pot noodle once. Never again.

Why?

Pot noodle? I need a just to recover from the thought of actually* eating one

Erm...

May I eat it then?

If you do it discreetly, yes you may

*serves lovely soup*

There's a fly in my soup