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

[B4] --minute.

::The monitor screen rights itself, revealing a conspicuously empty Lobby, except for Lil, Titania, and B4.::

[B4] Okay. Well. I was expecting to tumble into the next page of threads with Mr Big Stuff there, but I seem to have miscounted the dialogs on the present thread. So where did he go?

::He pulls an electronic device out of his satchel. It has numerous little blinking lights on its surface and one is struck by its resemblence to a human hand with its thumb extended. B4 punches a button, hems and haws, clicks another lighted button, scratches his head, then pushes several buttons in sequence. His furrowed brow relaxes and he grins.::

[B4] Thank goodness! I was afraid that little stunt shunted him into the subetha... Looks like he's still close at hand, so to speak, and finding room to breathe in the Ffordeian Rift.

::Realizing he's been thinking out loud again, he looks up sheepishly to find Lil and Ti standing there.::

Eh - B4 - what did you do?

Well, to the best of my knowledge, I have (1) moved us to the next page of convo via a rather metaphysical/technological time/space anomoly, and (2) inadvertantly placed a very LARGE Induhvidual in the Library's off-shoot site, The Ffordeian Rift.

I do believe, however, that both of these occurrances will have a positive outcome--in time. We shall see. Meanwhile, I better get back to my seat in the Theatre...

*heads back to her seat carrying a large order of fries and another cherry coke*

*cash registers and tills have been removed, and the contents of the refreshment kiosk are now free. Banquettes and palm trees are scattered about, and the Large Induhvidual is serving as bartender*

*Meanwhile... * http://www.asterlil.com/h2g2/mothergoose/awards.htm

*timidly approaches the Large Induhvidual*

Ripley, what are you having? Fresh mango juice? Ah...

One and one please...

*eagerly waiting for the actors to show up, notebook and pen at the ready*

I'll have a too please

I'd like a draft please.

(The double-doors from the theatre proper fly open and B4 comes careening into the Lobby, narrowly missing impact with several Salonistas, on his bee-line toward the concession counter. He skids to an overly abrupt halt [due to the carpeted flooring] and winds up leaning over the glass-topped counter, his satchel smacking solidly against the facing. He inhales deeply, attempting to relax, looks past the array of cups and popcorn buckets on the counter, realizes what his eyes are taking in, then splutters in a massive exhalation...)

[B4] Huffthrrrr...!!! What are YOU doing here?!?! I could have sworn I sent you to the Ffordeian Rift between the last act?

[LARGE] Beg pawdon, Sir?

[B4] Great. Now I've got to go find that thread and write a whole episode accounting for your return to "normal" size and the circustances of how you got back here...!

[LARGE] Why, thank you kindly, Sir.

(B4 whips out a small notepad, scribbles a few lines by way of an outline, snaps the cover shut and stows his pencil. With that he wanders off, thinking and muttering, on his way to find the loo.)

[B4] Another "Alice in Wonderland" reference...? No. Maybe stretched like a Toon... Nah! Well, then, trans-genetic mutation of his DNA, which caused a latent heuristic...

*Pansy sweeps majestically into the Lobby wearing dark glasses and a large coat with a fur collar that hides her awards ceremony gown. Walking daintily to the bar in her UK size 4s, she looks distainfully at the clumsy B4 and raises one eybrow before turning to the rather large gentleman.*

Excuse me sir. I'd like a small please.

Pansy! Pansy!



Pardon me, but could I - uh, could my unau please have your autograph?

*pencil and pen at the ready, trying very hard not to blush*

You have a pencil and pen my dear, but do you have any paper? Or perhaps the programme?

*slaps her forehead, while Ripley is helpfully handing her a note pad over her shoulder*

Ah - here, here... *completely failing in her attempt of not blushing*

*Pansy takes the notepad and chooses the pen. With a large flourish she carefully signs the paper and hands it back.*

There you are my dear.

*greedily grabs pen and paper*

*retreats into a dark corner of the lobby*

*taking turns with Ripley in 'watching the lobby/sleeping'*

*goes up to Pansy and holds out a pen and her programme* Ma'am, can I have your autograph? What a masterful performance!

:: The very LARGE Induhvidual carefully reaches into the wine rack at the base of the concession counter and pulls forth a bottle of fine wine. It's labeling is hid as he turns to uncork it, but as soon as he does so a delicate scent of vintage aroma wafts into the gathering crowd. Having let the first bits of cork splash into an unused glass, the LARGE Induhvidual pours the ruby liquid languorously into a sparkling stemmed glass, filling it slightly over half full. He then places it gently onto the counter and discreetly moves it within easy reach of one Ms Pansy Ffing. ::

[LARGE] (speaking almost inaudibly just over the background chatter)
Thar ye go, Mum. You'll enjoy this; it's one of our finest...

:: He turns back to his work and prepares a few more of the customary libations, in anticipation of the swelling crowd of Cast, Crew, and Audience. ::

*Pansy takes the beautifully poured glass of fine wine and daintily takes a small sip before reaching for the programme. She signs it with a dramatic flourish.*

Thank you for the compliment about my performance my dear, but really I do like to give credit to the backstage crew. The set painters did an absolutely brilliant job I think you'll agree.

*walks briskly in, having changed from Farmer's Wife costume to Dolce and Gabbana, which, curiously means she has not changed her shoes*

*To the large induhvidual* Do you have Cristal?

*looks Pansy up and down* We don't have to be in costume any more, you know. Or are you hoping for a special prize?

*Pansy feigns an innocent look and being the true actress she is, almost succeeds.*

There are prizes?
Really?
Well I never!
Oh well I *know* I shan't win anything but I'm sure you will, my dear. Do you have a speech ready? I haven't bothered of course.

I've really just come out of the theatre in a hurry and grabbed any old thing to wear. In fact I've simply thrown this old coat on over the top of my dress. I just didn't have time to change. I shall take it off later, perhaps when people start to reveal their true selves.

Did you know you have mud on your shoes?