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

I take it your on the McLurchers?



Bassers

Make mine a Chateau Redders Claret old boy - feeling a touch squiffy at the moment what !

*falls asleep*

No problem Redders old sport....

*makes mental note.... One McLurcher, one Chateau Redders....*



Bassers

Very decent of you.

A snifter of the Glenmiller would be most welcome.

Actually, don't want you running back and forth like a whisky-wallah, do we? Best just bring the bottle back.

Splendid.

Going up are we Bassers, splendid old boy, I'll have a McLurchers.
Now, the Chap quarterly, is it still going? My man hasn't acquired it in ages. Must thrash him, wot.

Ooh, and while you're heading barwards, Bassers old chap, I wouldn't say no to a an with a McLurchers chaser...

I seem to have mislaid my man Godfrey at some point. And I was going to send him out to pick up the Sopwith. As soon as we'd remembered whereabouts we bally were, what!

What's the prob Organ Grinder? Who gives a blazes where a chap is so long as he's there and enjoying a pint of , a or perhaps a snifter or two (call it a bottle) of dram?

Besides, surely it's your mans look out to work out where the blazes you are ...

Fair point.

I'd like to enjoy a point of but still waiting for Bassers to get back from the bar...

P.S. It's me - Pollers - I'm in disguise! Best not to ask!!

I say, me hearties, when somebody has wacked out where we are, could they try to find out where my old Vincent is? Damn fine bally motorcycle she was - and there was a real smasher of a WAAF on the back when I stopped to ease the bladder. I stepped into the bushes to stretch a point......that was in '52 I believe....

* returns from sortie to the bar, distributes and *

That'll be WRAF then would it old chum? Fancy leavin' something as pretty as that unattended, some scally-wag might make off with her. You'd look pretty silly walking home in that get-up - goggles and gauntlets and all....



Bassers

It's these dashed new fangled computer doodads! My trusty old Reminton manual typewriter doesn't make nearly as many spelling mistakes! It's all the fault of electronics that befuddle the brain with the radiation thingymebobs - that's why I line all my caps with tinfoil to stop the whatsitsname. Dashed if I remember how I got home that night...or was it daytime?

Let's have another while I think about it, wot?

Cheers for the Bassers.
Don't hold with electrotrickery meself. Steam power is all you need to build an empire wot. Well, that, a bit of backbone and some jolly fine guns eh?

Steam - humbug!

All of my power is generated by the locals working a treadmill for 18 hours a day. Damned glad of the work as well, doncha know. Good for the environment as well...

Now,now, have a care there TOGM, old chap! 18 hours is a bit much, don't you think? I find it much better to work a six hour shift for the women starting at dawn, followed by a twelve hour shift for the men starting at noon. That way the women can still get to cook the grub and the men are out of the way for the evening...

(Enters with a crash, returning from Yacht club, brandishing the Thuttlethwaite Penant, full of rum.......)

Another year, another victory. You should've seen it, you chaps, flying m'number two Genoa with one hand whilst wrestling with the greeen fairy with me other. Halfway down the bottle, thought I'd lost it... but NO! Take more than some foreign liquor and a slight squall to......

(collapses in a heap, still smiling)

(small voice) The good ship Grebe does it again, I am Victor Ludorum.....

(eyes close)

Funny lot these sailor types. Too long at sea with no fillies on hand sends them a bit "Oscar Wilde" in my opinion, wot?

Indeed - sounds like a bit of a rum do.

As long as he doesn't attempt to hoist his mainsail in the club, wot!


Pollers

Indeed, that's Redders job I thought, wot. *Guffaw!*

No fillies aboard? Harummph! I remember those days well - thank the Lord they've fixed that now...

I took the Commodorés daughter out for a training run in a Flying Fifteen in False Bay one day. We lost the little birgie thingee at the top of the mast to tell us where the wind's coming from. Dashed if we didn't sail around in circles until I got the filly to give up her bikini top for the purpose. I ran it up to the top of the mast and everything was shipshape from then on...an outstanding young lady that deserved the full salute, so I helped her rub the sunblock on her chest.
Can't recall wot happened after that, though...?

huh! I hear old Redders is a bit p.c. challenged at the moment. I thought that meant he was having trouble getting the computer hooked up at his house, don'tcher know. Now I know it means something else!
Hoisting his main sail Again, is he?? *snicker* Maybe we'd better change the term from "Full Montegomery" to "Doing a Redders."
Gaffaw!