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

It is 5 pm. There is a little more than an hour of daylight left in Hooverville. Do you know where your cats are? Don't let them get eaten!

Wlad is still playing Medium Leslie. He throws in some hitchhiking music.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWXME3oglQo

Of course, the inevitable happens, so he plays the request number.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y-omxhloww0

Between numbers, Wlad makes random announcements, such as, 'Will the guy who parked the spaceship in the alley out back please move it? The street cleaners need to get through' and 'There will be a special meeting of Bigfoot Abductees Anonymous the next full moon at the Macbeth Cabins. Bring Bigfoot repellent and your favourite episode of X-Files.'

There's also a sing-along number that is really popular with the Medium Leslie crowd – and anybody else who speaks German, which is a lot of people in Hooverville. They sing along with enthusiasm.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhuQCtHBpVo

As a change of pace, Wlad also sponsors poetry readings. Sometimes the students and local amateur poets read from their works in progress. Other times, Medium Leslie enthusiasts recite from the works of the spasmodic poets, while Wlad improvises on the keyboard. Today there is a recitation from….we'll let him tell it.

Val Schelmerdink steps up the microphone and gives it a few tentative taps.

'Can everybody hear me?'

'Louder than the siren!' they call back. He nods, and clears his throat.

'This afternoon, dudes and dudettes, I would like to present a reading from the works of that immortal bard of yore, William McGonagall.'

Loud cheers mingled with raspberries. McGonagall is everybody's favourite poet, right? Better than Byron and Dylan combined. If he were alive today, McGonagall would win the Ignobel Prize for Literature.

Thus encouraged, Val continues. 'This poem is called 'The Battle of Omdurman'. The Battle of Omdurman was one of those imperialist ventures the British got up to in Sudan. For some reason, they were proud of themselves about it.' A87954529 'Here goes.' Everybody prepared to enjoy this bit of irony, because nobody in western Pennsylvania has ever liked the British. Something about a Line of Demarcation…also the large number of Scots and Scots Irish here, and Germans.

' Ye Sons of Great Britain! come join with me
And sing in praise of the gallant British Armie,
That behaved right manfully in the Soudan,
At the great battle of Omdurman.

’Twas in the year of 1898, and on the 2nd of September,
Which the Khalifa and his surviving followers will long remember,
Because Sir Herbert Kitchener has annihilated them outright,
By the British troops and Soudanese in the Omdurman fight.

The Sirdar and his Army left the camp in grand array,
And marched on to Omdurman without delay,
Just as the brigades had reached the crest adjoining the Nile,
And became engaged with the enemy in military style….'

Some listeners sway to the music. Others take imaginary notes on their cocktail napkins. One wag holds up a cigarette lighter flame. A trio up front sway to the music.

Medium Leslie: the thinking person's idiocy.

was almost like deja vu again, as Arsenio and Rose left the china shop and walked down to the river. The narrow path along the bank was just as he had dreamed it, but now the red maple trees were missing most of their leaves.

The rehearsal went pretty much as Arsenio had dreamed it. G. Malcolm Hines didn't put in an appearance, but Arsenio could hear him whistling not far away. What surprised Arsenio, though, was the furtive glances Rose kept casting in his direction.

Could it be that the two were seeing each other? Oh, my!

Arsenio's thoughts went to the other rehearsal that lay ahead for him. He would be rehearsing Handel's "Messiah" a little later. At this time of year, in many places, many choral groups would be rehearsing this piece, but in a town like Hooverville it was hard to mount productions of *any* large-scale work. For one thing, the town had no large choral ensembles. There were smaller groups, the best of which
was the so-called Community Choir at a local church. Church choirs, of course, were notorious for balance problems. The University had no large choral groups either.

Luckily, the small ensemble Arsenio was in had excellent balance and uniformly excellent singers. Fuller had gone to college in Beantown, where small groups performed "The Messiah" on a regular basis. Maybe Hooverville could get used to the smaller Messiah, and gradually develop a large community chorus to do the big choral warhorses.

Ah, someday! But it usually took some galvanizing force to organize things like this.

On our way to see the Mayor, together with the Sheriff, I can't help noticing the crowd in front of Anna's shop. Several groups of (mostly male) locals are discussing spud ballistics. Some ideas sound promising, so I listen in while walking by.

"The current style of guns will do about a thousand yards, max... So to reach 30 miles to Punxsy, we somehow have to scale up by at least a factor 50 to 60"
"Yeah, and what does a potato do when going through the sound barrier? You tell me..."
"Somehow, you need a long barrel to get the right exiting velocity without blowing it to bits"
"How about if we build something with multiple consecutive blasts?"
"If we cover the spud in tin foil, we could put it through a particle accelerator. I mean, why bother with the speed of sound when we have the speed of light?""
"Cool! But don't you think that either the nuclear fusion of air at the front of the potato, or the shockwave created by air filling the vacuum behind the potato would destroy everything in a 100 mile radius?"
"I think it is a calculated risk"
"OK, but how will we be able to prove you hit the groundhog?"
"Well... A big crater where Punxsy was seems proof enough to me..."
"Right. Is there anyone here who was lots of wire and liquid nitrogen lying around? Barbed wire will probably do just as well. See if we can have a working prototype before dinner"


Hey Sheriff, it's good to see what a community like Hooverville is capable of when setting a challenge, don't you think?

Now let's find the Mayor, I'm getting hungry again and I'm getting a lot of text messages regarding bear sized cats and cat sized bears (although I prefer the latter). One Cat alert a day is one too many for my taste, so two is out of the question.

Are you coming Paula? I'm not sure if Anna will allow family members to compete...

Cal was still a little groggy as she answered the rather insistent knocking at her door.

*Oh hi, Cuddles* she looked up at the caffeine-fuelled biker, then at her watch (wow, a whole two hours sleep) *What's up?*

*Hi lovely, sorry to disturb you, but I've got a really heavy sitch going on, I need you to pack a bag and come with us, erm like kinda now?*

He glanced over her shoulder at the mountain of clothing and belongings dwarfing the large suitcase.

*Oh, cool! Shouldn't take too long then!*

*Look Cuddles, I'm really, really knackered, whatever's going on, can you call back later on, that'd be cool?*

Cuddles squinted through heavy eyes, holding out his beautifully manicured hand to her.

*Come with me, if you want to live!*

[In a potato war, Arsenio would be just a spec-tater.]

The Sheriff gives the Irelands a Stern Look and hopes that the worst that will happen with the spud ballistics exploits is too much mashed potato...

He is also rather worried that Fred has been receiving messages about cats that don't sound as though they would get stuck in trees, but then again wildlife management is usually the territory of the Park Ranger and the local Farmers so the Police don't tend to get called in for those kinds of problems, thank Hoover. He remembers reading occasional articles in the Hooverville Honker about sightings of black panthers, Bigfoot and such things, and that reminds him he hasn't yet had chance to sit down with the paper today.

The Sheriff agrees that it would be good to find the Mayor quickly so that the perpetrators of the incident can offer her a formal apology and get to work raising funds, and so that everyone can go and get some more food to eat. His stomach rumbles again.

While they are waiting for the Mayor, the Sheriff asks the students to think about getting ready to hire Vaxhoovers from to clean up the foam residue, and gets them to make a start on wiping the Town Hall windows with their towels.

Hmmm … doesn't Mayoress Schmidt check her phone messages? Wynken's heard nothing back from her.

If the cat is still in the park, fine … well, not *that* fine, but still fairly manageable … but if it's out?

Maybe Sheriff Rowdybush. Wynken calls him. No answer. All right, message then.

"Sheriff, it's Wynken. I just want to ask you if you've heard anything about a rather large cat. If you hear from anyone who's spotted one, would you please let me know? I'll deal with it, I just need to know where the thing is. If it's not in the park. But I'm hoping it's still in the park. But if anyone encounters it … there's no reason to panic. It's eaten well quite recently. It may be big, but it's still a kitteh. So here's what to do for anyone who comes across it … first, don't feel slighted if it treats you with apparent disdain. But if it warms to you, which it will show by quivering its tail and making a chuffing sound, you may pet it on the head. But if it lies on its back … it's a trap! Do not, I repeat, do not, rub its belly!

I would appreciate much if you got the word out, Sheriff, and let me know the instant you hear something. I am rather anxious to capture this kitty and restore it to its rightful place."

Good. Wynken hopes that goes through. For now he'll continue trying to track the cat with the drone. It's tough business and would have been impossible without the drone's ultra-sensitive infra red cameras. The tracks so far show the cat having turned to the south. The trail is several hours old, though, so it might be quite a distance away by now ...

The tea is weak. Very weak.
It's just hot water, really.
She was doing so many things at once, she must have forgotten to put in the teabags.
That will not do.
Does she want to brew it now?

If noone comes into the shop for the next two minutes, she's getting the teabags.
Starting...
Now.
4:02.
A lady in a swimming cap walks by, stops to look at the display, takes a step back towards the door... And leaves.
4:03.
A little boy runs to the door, dragging his Referent Person behind him. He shakes his finger franctically at something on the left side of the Emporium (that's the Comic Books shelf), pleading with the Person. The Person shakes their head, tries to push the boy away from the shop, presumably in the direction of home. The little boy puts up a fight, but the Adult is strong and bigger, and wins. They walk away, one scolding, the other sniffling.
4:04. (Time not found, haha).
Noone has entered. She is having tea.

The water is still hot enough, she just chucks the teabags in.

Jingle!

Crumbs, dust, and cat hair!
Lola hurries downstairs to greet whoever it is.

A little boy and his Referent Person. Looking at the comic books. No more scolding, and no more sniffling. The Adult lost, after all. Guerilla is hard.

- Do you happen to have the new issue of "The Galactic Traveller's Guide"?
- I do indeed, it should be around...
Lola reaches to the top shelf with her left hand, holding the side panel with her right hand for balance.
- Here! Issue 42, "The End-of-the-World Snackbar". It's really good fun, too.
The boy lights up like a Hoovermas tree, sparkles in his eyes, grin from ear to ear.
- I told you it was out! You wouldn't believe me!
The Referent Person sighs, rolls their eyes, and heads to the counter.

- Will that be all, or did you need anything else?
- Well, I don't think we even *needed* this, so that'll be enough for today, I think.
- Do you know you can subscribe to their newsletter, and get a reminder when a new issue is out? That's really convenient!
- Andy here obviously knew that, yes, the sneaky little sneaker.
The adults chuckle, while the boy starts leafing through his new book.

- So that'll be 2.99, please. Do you want me to reserve one for you next time?
- Would you do that? That would be awesome!
- No problem at all, I'll just take your name and phone number for my sticky-note collection...
- Refee-Ren Parson is the name, and here's my phone number.
The Person shows their phone screen to Lola, and she jots down the number on her last sticky note. (Must Buy Some More, Urgent).

At quarter to six, a happy little boy and a happy Person leave the shop, leaving a happy Lola to wonder what the Dust she's done with her tea.
She decides to worry about it later. She's meeting her friends in twenty minutes or so, and she has been promised cocktails.

She checks the register, puts away a few things that were taken off the shelves in the course of the day, and at exactly six, she locks the door, grabs her coat, and hurries to the Mike Fink Lounge to meet up with her best friends (well, ok, her only friends).

Dust, I fell through a crack in the space-time continuum.
Somehow Lola's shop clock decided to move to standard time in the middle of the day. Probably.

When she has given Cassy her food, Wilhelmina gets changed out of her walking clothes and into something more suitable for dinner. She leaves the reading lamp on in the living room and says goodbye to Cassy, who sits at the window and looks outside into the street.

Wilhelmina puts on her coat, shoes and wool cap, takes her handbag and leaves her apartment. She goes downstairs and walks out of the door at the end of the stairs. Then she walks back up again, locks her apartment and goes downstairs again. For a moment she stands in front of the door, looking up at the Lady of Justice up on the Town Hall at the opposite side of the street.

She shakes her head, wondering what actually happened last night and who set the statue on fire and for what reason. Then Wilhelmina walks around the corner and down Main Street to the direction of the church. On her way she passes the No-Bull House, the Nose'n'Book Book Shop and the River Pirate's Inn. She looks into the shop windows and admires the decorations at the China Shop.

When she reaches the church Wilhelmina crosses the street. There Wilhelmina reaches her destination: The Laughing Buddhahoover. The window frames and the door are painted red. Over the door is a small roof with gazed green tiles which is carried by two wooden columns. Carved dragons curl around them. Wilhelmina opens the door and enters a magical world of red and gold. Red carpet, red chairs, red lanterns hanging from the ceiling, golden decorations. She is greeted by a golden statue of the Laughing Buddhahoover at the entrance. The restaurant is quite full already with people of all ages: elderly couples, students, families with children. Waiters skillfully glide between tables. The air smells of fat and soy sauce.

Wilhelmina decides it is too busy at the buffet already and after a busy day like this she doesn't feel particularly adventurous anymore, so she goes with a spring roll and sweet and sour chicken. She thinks about also having dessert, but then looks at her watch and decides to pay. She leaves the Laughing Buddhahoover and walks back across the street and to the River Pirates' Inn.

The Deadly Physics Prize goes to Caiman (again!) for threatening to obliterate Punxsy (and for knowing how far away it is).

The Deathless Catchphrase Award goes to Freewayriding for obvious reasons.

The Most Sensible Person in the Room Award goes to SashaQ for equally obvious reasons.

The Wildlife Advice Award goes to Willem for noting that it isn't a good idea to give sabretoothed tigers belly rubs.

And Superfrenchie gets the Lost in Spacetime Award for having no idea what time it is in spite of the fact that it's posted in the subject line.

Tavaron gets Special Mention for Best Segue in the Series, but you'll have to read tomorrow's episode to see why.