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

This is where one comes to be "exorcised" isn't it? Funny, I never knew they had equipment for this (other than holy water and a cross...) But, never one to impede progress - I'll choose the rowing machine please. At least I can have a bit of a "sit" while those little demons are being released...

However, I must warn you - my demons are very well entrenched, and they like living inside me. So don't expect them to pack up and ship out willingly.

(You do have property insurance don't you? I'd hate to be responsible when they start wrecking havoc )

*head spins around a few times*

*hiccup*

Phew! *sweating profusely* I've been on this rowing machine for over 24 hours now - and the waitress still hasn't come round for my drink order

*gets up - walks over to the skeleton chained to the "Stairmaster", taps him on the shoulder* Excuse me, but have you seen the waitress lately? (steps back as his arm falls off and lands on the carpet next to his foot) I'm a bit parched and... oh... I'm sorry. You know - I have the name of a good physical therapist if you need help with that.*

Dear me Michelle, you didn't read the small print did you?
The idea of the fitness room is to generate electricity for my jacuzzi, entertainment centre, fridge and the computer.
Now here's a cold , I'll bring you another after a century or two of rowing.

But what about my demons? Won't they be exorcised???

Those are the finest lot of demons I've seen in a while, they need developing and I have just the programme for that. Stick around for a demonstration.
Oh, I forgot, there's no way out for you is there.

Ooooh! Waits in anticipation...

Enjoying the anticipation?
I've bought a personal trainer for you; Count Fangtooth Grue, late of the Spanish Inquisition.
I'll leave you to his tender merci...er inspiring programme.

Oh well, if you must. I was hoping that you were going to be my personal trainer, but I'm sure Count Grue will be quite lovely also (she says as her head spins around twice and exercise equipment starts levitating around the room)

I didn't realise I was dealing with a star from The Exorcist.
Such supple neck muscles call for personal attention.

Yes - I'd like to start with you checking out my rowing form, and offering your advice on what I could do to improve it :

*Michele gets situated in the rowing machine. She stretches her long legs out (notice the extremely short shorts? ), placing her feet on the foot braces. Her graceful long fingers with impeccably groomed french nails grasp the oars (Oooh... Ahhh! ). She moans softly as she pulls back on the oars, tossing her head back, (her dark brown hair starting to stick to the sweat beading up on her brow) she displays her lovely long neck. She turns and looks at the Count with her dark, mysterious brown eyes*

Now - what area do you think I need work in?

*The Count is unnerved by a disembodied voice that echoes around the fitness room.
"What the....?" he exclaims but relaxes and smiles an enigmatic smile.
"Ah, so we're in a Barbara Cartland novel my dear. I'd rather hoped for an Attwood but not to worry, I can do sugary."
With that the Count focuses his dark mysterious eyes on hers, "We have to do something about your tense attitude, I think past tense would be an improvement."
Chuckling evily he sweeps his cape across his shoulders and strides out the door.

Drat! Scared off another one! And now I'm left here with these dull skeletons... *Glances over at a zombie in the corner that looks promising, walks over, in her best sulty voice she says "Hey big boy, haven't seen you around these parts lately"...

Oh sorry... (how was I supposed to know that a zombie takes offense to the word "parts"?)

Sheesh, everyone's so touchy today!

*Settles down to do some serious rowing*

You can't beat a good serious row for clearing the air is what I always say.
Hurling plates and kitchen utensils is also very satisfying.
Those darn zombies give everybody the impression of being brain-dead.

Ahem... I'd like to register a complaint with management! The seat on my rowing machine is not nearly "cushy" enough, the corn chips are soggy and the cola is flat! And with all the skeletons around losing limbs and such, whenever my demons get in the mood for a little "levitation" the darned room looks like an asteroid field!

And the worst thing (I find it hard to speak about this without getting emotional)...

*pauses here to regain control of herself*...

I broke a fingernail!

What you need is a session in my Counselling Room.
Designed to put you in touch with your inner Damien it's a course of led meditations, counselling and trauma reduction techniques specially designed to lighten your purse, er aura.

The first session entitled Reversing Negativity, will involve fragrant incense, chanting and a 2000 volt battery.

Um... did I say I was "unhappy"? NO NO! I think you misunderstood me! I'm very happy! (rows like the wind)

Happy, happy, happy!

That's what I like, a satisfied customer.
Keep rowing like that and there will be no need for the cattle prod.

Cattle prod? You didn't mention in the pamphlet that there would be entertainment! What comes next, whips? Chains?

*quickly makes a bowl of popcorn, pours a soda for the Count and herself, settles down into the cinema chairs (which she hadn't noticed were in the room before) to watch the "show"*

*The backstage manager was pacing all around by his chair.*
"There's something funny going on," he said, "I can just feel it in the air."
Never mind the Dylan references, get on with the show

Enter stage left; Plastic Squirrel in top hat, floopy dress and mascara,
"Velcomen to ze Cabaret!"

You'll notice the keypad on the armrest, right button activates the cheering, left button activates the cattle prod. I advise against using the middle button.