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

It's 6 pm. It will be dark in 15 minutes. Don't worry: there are streetlights. Oh: do worry. There are strange animals about. Don't give them belly rubs.

Dmitri Gheorgheni, Tavaron da Quirm, and Superfrenchie (Group Post):

The Medium Leslie session is running overtime. Management doesn't care, because no other acts are booked and otherwise, the Mike Fink Lounge would be pretty empty. Val is still reciting 'The Battle of Omdurman':

'And defiantly they planted their standards and died by them,
To their honour be it said, just like brave men;
But at last they retired, with their hearts full of woe,
Leaving the field white with corpses, like a meadow dotted with snow.'

Somebody in the crowd lets out a mock sob, and then there is applause.

Wilhelmina enters just as the last verses of the poem are said. She does all she can to keep a straight face. She walks to the bar, looks at all the shining bottles and orders a drink while she waits. Something light, she doesn't want to get drunk.

Wlad brings the proceedings to a close by starting the pre-recorded video show. The first number is 'For Those Who Are Suffering from Bunny Withdrawal'.

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

He goes over to sit at the bar with Wilhelmina. 'Hi,' he grins.

Wilhelmina smiles 'Hi, Wlad. I see you had a large audience as usual. How are you?'

Wlad smiles. 'Snug as a bug...oh, heck, sorry for the Lesliespeak. Just fine, thanks.'

Lola is greeted into the Lounge by bunnies hopping all over the place (all right, only one bunny, all over the screen, but still). She joins her friends at the bar and orders a cocktail ("Something sweet and colourful, please, surprise me").

'Hello, my favourite humans! How's life?'

'Better now we're all here,' says Wlad. 'What's shakin' up the street?'

'No lions yet, but tigers and bears (Oh my!), apparently,' says Lola. 'Did you hear anything about those?'

'Bears I can believe,' says Wlad, 'but tigers are a stretch. Is the circus in town?'

'I've met a few clowns...' opines Lola. Wlad laughs.

'I heard they find more and more strange animals at the Misty Mountains. At least that's what some of my guests were telling. Next they find Nessie in a lake, or they discover Bigfoot.' Wilhelmina rolls her eyes.

Lola smiles. (Does Wlad know what the French say about someone who laughs?)

(No, he doesn't.)

(The actual saying is "femme qui rit, à moitié dans ton lit", "a laughing woman is a woman half-way into your bed"... wink wink nudge nudge.)

(It is truly a shame that Wlad does not know this.)

(She'll just have to find another way, if he doesn't.)

'Do you know, Wil', it really is kind of scary. Whatever you do, don't go into the forest alone, ok?,' Lola whispers through her straw. (Mmh, peach and mint, unusual.)

Wilhelmina shrugs, taking a sip of her drink. 'I was there this afternoon, taking a walk. I have no idea where all these new creatures hide, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. But who knows, they might hide somewhere far off the paths. Maybe they know better than to come out of the forest and to the farms.'

'Maybe they're more scared of you than the other way around,' Lola snorks. 'They sure had better be scared of the farmers, for one thing. All that second amendment talk is more about that than about fighting off a tyrannical government, if you ask me.'

Wlad nods. 'I got a text from my friend Zbigniew - he says they're meeting at the grange, and they're packing serious heat.' He thinks. 'I hope it doesn't get too Jurassic Park out there - there are no velociraptors, right? Tell me there are no velociraptors.'

Lola says mischievously, 'Well if there are, we're doomed. But at least, I'm a faster runner than you, Wlad.' (It's the rum talking.)

Wlad laughs. 'We might need to call out the ROTC students.'

Wilhelmina laughs 'I hope it will not come to this... but maybe I should keep the cat inside, just to be on the safe side?'

Lola's eyes twinkle. 'Oh I don't know. Who would win, do you think, in a fight between Cassy and a raptor? I'm not sure I'd place my money on the dino... But yeah, better safe than sorry of course.'

Wlad thinks aloud. 'Those ROTC students have artillery...'

'Traditional, or pumpkin artillery? Forgive the foreigner,' Lola smiles.

Wlad roars. 'Both, if I know them.'

Wilhelmina nods 'By the way, did you hear the sheriff is now questioning the students? I heard it has something to do with the fire at the Town Hall.'

'Oh, yes, the burning Lady Justice. Well, if you want my opinion, there's a precedent in French history... I'm betting it was the English again. Although why the Mayor would set fire to her own town hall is beyond me, but you can never know with those people and their strange traditions...' (Of course, Lola is not one for gossiping, at all.)

Wlad scratches his head. 'Like Guy Fawkes, you mean? An effigy, only they got the wrong end of the tradition?'

Wilhelmina finishes her drink. 'I have heard of firemen setting things on fire so they can then feel good about extinguishing it again. And probably for publicity. Maybe that's the mayor's goal? Maybe she seemed so troubled this morning because it didn't all go as planned?'

Lola says, 'Well, yes, there's also Guy Fawkes, but Joan of Arc was first. Ok, technically not burnt by the English, but their allies, still, it was their fault. Anyway, failed publicity stunt sounds plausible to me. Then again, I'm not the Sheriff.'

Wlad takes a sip of his Pilsener. 'Me, too. But if anybody can get to the bottom of it, it will be Sheriff Rowdybush. I'm kind of glad it's not up to the Mayor. Nice lady, but a little weird.'

Lola agrees. 'Amen to that! I raise my glass to Sheriff Rowbydush... Rowny.... to the Sheriff.' (Maybe she should have had a non-alcoholic cocktail).

Wlad looks concerned. 'Lola, you look...er, tired. You didn't drive here, did you?'

'Oh no, I walked here, don't worry. I should probably have a glass of water though, if I don't want to have to crawl home...'

'I'll walk you back,' he offered.

'Aw, thanks, Wlad, you're a star!'

Wilhelmina nods. 'That's probably a good idea.'

'Are you headed that way, too? We can go together, as soon as I get the keyboard put away.'

'I mean, we're all going in the same direction anyway, aren't we?' Lola says.

Wilhelmina agrees.

(Urgh, dust-bunnying Americans putting ice cubes into everything! Lola fishes them out with her straw.) 'Do you need help with your gear, Wlad? We'll help you pack, won't we Wil'?'

'That's okay,' says Wlad hastily. 'You two sit here and enjoy yourselves, this won't take a minute.'

Wilhelmina was just about to get up, then sits down again. 'Did one of you hear about all the land that is bought around Hooverville by the way? I heard people complaining they can't even buy land for a house anymore. Some younger people already moved away because of it. Who knows what is going on there. The mayor doesn't seem to stop it.'

While Wlad packs up and collects the contents of his tip jar - not a bad night - the women discuss real estate.

'I've heard about it, but I don't know what to think... Maybe the Mayor has a Cunning Plan of some kind... I don't know much about real estate to be honest.' This from Lola.

Wilhelmina sneakily pays for all three drinks, then turns back to Lola. 'Yes, who knows.' She waits for Wlad to finish packing.

'No, Wil', it was my turn to pay, and you knew it. You're incorrigible! All right, just this once, but I am buying next time, you must promise.'

Wilhelmina chuckles 'Ok, fine, next time you pay.'

Wlad's finished packing up, and says goodnight to the owner. Then he offers an arm to each lady. 'Shall we away into the night, you two?'

Wilhelmina nods, she also puts on her coat and takes Wlad's arm.

Lola takes Wlad's other arm. She's too tired to bicker about preferring the side Wilhelmina took, and it doesn't really matter after all.

2:39 PM
All the way back to the shops, Wlad leads his two friends in a chorus of 'Bears'.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRU-DUD3Bv0

Lola, 'Look out, look out!'

[The '2:39 PM' is a typo left over from Skype. Apologies from the secretary.]

The rehearsal had gone so well that the Philpott clan decided to drive up to the Schwartzenwaldische cafe in the foothills of the Misty Mountains for supper. Over roast pork sandwiches, they chattered happily about developing new acts.

Suddenly, Fuller Philpotts turned solemn. "Rose, would you like some career advice?" he asked gently.

"Would I!" Rose exclaimed. "I pretty much have no career right now."

"You're like thousands of others, I'm afraid. But don't knock the choices you made in college. You can learn new instruments really quickly, even the wolf horn and sackbut."

"Not many people can make a career from playing those instruments," Rose protested.

"You think your study of arcane, rare instruments was useless? Think again! Around here, you've got hardly any competition when a piece calls for one of them. Think about the pan flute you played this afternoon. Every time an opera company wants to mount "The Magic Flute," they'll have to round
up someone who plays the pan flute. And glockenspiel. And the instrument that sounds like those magic bells. You can play *all three of them.* Those jobs for pianists and violinists are taken by people who've had 10,000 hours of ractice on them. But no one is going to go to that much exertion for an instrument that rarely gets played. So, they turn to the people who are versatile and can
learn them quickly. That's you, babe! All your professors have told me that you learned quicker than anyone else they've ever taught."

Rose was silent as she thought about these things.

The sun had set, and the lights from the houses and farms further down the slope were glowing in the dusk. Off in the distance, the spires of the 11 churches in Hooverville could be seen, though binoculars were recommended. It was said that, on a clear day, you could see the Halfagainy River in the distance from here.

"If you'd like to stay in this area, you could piece together some small jobs," Fuller resumed. "Keep an eye on the Fifth, Eighth, and Eleventh Churches of Hooverville. The organists there are in their sixties. One might retire soon, and you could snag his job. And, there might be a call for a flutophone teacher for the fourth graders in one of the grammar schools. You coujld give piano lessons."

Or, I could be a faculty wife, Rose thought happily. Godfrey Mack Hines taught a course in Musical Theater -- a very popular course indeed!

It was time to drive back to the china shop for the evening's rehearsal of Handel's "The Messiah."

I see the crew has already done some work to get the Town hall dry. The big electric fans seem to have their effect. Interesting to see the formation of blue copper(II)sulphate crystals on the stone red paint of the building, and in such nice organic patterns too. Luckily, it will be dark soon, so any discussions about the new colour scheme will be for tomorrow....Well at least the mayor doesn't have to worry about fungi destroying the wood for the next century or so. Those French farmers use the porridge Bordelaise to protect their vines against mildew and other stuff.

Sheriff ?! Did you know that today's treatment helps you out if you want evidence that someone peed against the Town hall? Just follow the blueish-purple stains, as that is what happens to copper(II)sulphate when coming into contact with ammonia. Just don't let the word get out to the student community, or people will try to write their name that way. Oh, Sam, Alex? You didn't hear that, did you? If you did, you didn't get to hear it from me, or you will get the full force of plausible denial from me (and extra marks for correct spelling).

Any volunteers to brush off the Lady? She must have cooled down a bit by now.. No, Sam, you can't take any selfies with her (while I'm looking, that is). I'll call Ted to bring us a floodlight, ropes and climbing harness to do that safely, for this once. This is probably your only chance ever to climb the Town hall tower with consent of the authorities, Right, Sheriff? Right! Paula can climb on lead, the rest can follow. Don't forget your smartphone, but don't drop it either.

You want to get up there too Sheriff? We can build a Seilrollen flaschenzug and hoist you up there, if you like? We could write history getting you and your wheelchair up there, mythology even... Don't worry, we used that technique to get our piano up the stairs, so if you're lighter than that piano, you will probably be safe.

I'll make the call. Maybe Ted can bring us some snacks too.. I'm starving.

Hoover, I like this job!

Just wondering what all that winking and signaling between Paula and the two boys durig the interview was about.

Why do I hear a humming noise and are the streetlights flickering?

I was definitely either still in a coma or having the weirdest nightmare ever!

I stared groggily at the three bizarre figures bending over me.

Richard Nixon, speaking in a horrifically grotesque parody of a Disney Princess's voice, rattled the chain on my handcuffs and squeaked, *The chain in those handcuffs is high-tensile steel. It'd take you ten minutes to hack through it with this. Now, if you're lucky, you could hack through your ankle in five minutes.*

I looked at my shackled wrist, then, more pointedly, down at the tape around my ankles.

*Why my ankle?* Was the most my cloudy mind could manage.

This dream was getting weirder, and I was sure I'd heard those words somewhere before?

*Wrist! Not ankle, five minutes to….no...probably a little less than that, thinner bone maybe…." Nixon sounded a little shaken, even in that horrible voice.

*Mad Max!* I laughed out loud as I remembered the movie scene and the quote, *Max and the hacksaw scene!*

*Erm, Your levity is good, it relieves tension and the fear of death.* That squeaky voice was truly gruesome.

*Terminator!* I was beginning to enjoy this bit of my dream, or maybe my comatose mind was reliving movie scenes? Either way, weird was turning weirdly funny.

Nixon tried a different tack, whispering into my ear, *I know why you're here, I know what you've been doing... why you hardly sleep, why you live alone, and why night after night, you sit by your computer. You're looking for her…*

Ok, obviously the Matrix, but this one was a little more relevant! Maybe my brain was trying to give me clues?

*Where I she, I need to find her? Do you have her?* I pleaded with my own imagination.

*No we don't have her…* Nixon paused, turning his back on me, I heard his gloved hands fumbling through papers,*.........But what I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let her go now, that will be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you and I will kill you.*

Oh jeez, erm, that one with Liam Thingy and the Dutch girl in X-Men…

Taken! Cal had been taken by these freaks!

*When I get out of here, I'll find her and you are bloody dead, all of you!*

Porky threw the hacksaw onto the floor next to me.

*In that case, the chain in those handcuffs is high-tensile steel. It'd take you ten minutes to hack through it with this…..*

He shrugged and angrily pushed the others away, muttering *stupid Limey*, then all three left the room.

Weird! But even weirder was the small handcuff key shining on the floor next to the Mad Max hacksaw, dropped when Nixon was shuffling through his prompts!

Two minutes later I was out.

["Out," as in unconscious, or out of the handcuffs?]

Ok........two minutes later, I had retrieved the key, unlocked my shackles,and removed the tape from my legs. Standing up, I walked to the door of the room (which was apparently unlocked) and then I was out....I'd left...rather like Elvis, but not the entire building, only into the next room for now.

Whether I was conscious or not is still a matter of debate, considering the weird stuff that's going on around here. Maybe I'll take the easy way 'out' and say it's all been a very bad November dream...but probably not.

So out , as in 'out of the room', will do. (Hopefully)

[I got it - once I'd stopped laughing, which wasn't easy. Great scene!]

[I wasn't trying to nitpick -- well, not much . I enjoyed it immensely, as I'm enjoying the rest of this month's Hooverville saga.]

Sheriff Rowdybush agrees with Fred Ireland that the new colour scheme is extremely pleasing, but also agrees that it is lucky that any discussions about it will have to wait until tomorrow, as he suspects the Mayor may not see it like that. The plus points about the protection against fungi and the ammonia deterrent may help, though.

The Sheriff thanks Fred for the offer of a hoist up the tower, but assures the fireman that, although he and his wheelchair are indeed lighter than the piano, he is very satisfied watching from the ground while the fire brigade team do their work at height.

Wondering where the Mayor is, the Sheriff checks for messages on his mobile phone and finds the one from Wynken De Woordesmyth about the rather large cat. He asks Fred to keep a discreet lookout for it, especially in case it has found its way into a tree, and passes the message through to Sergeant Frisbee in the Police Station. He texts Wynken back to say, "Message received and understood".

He wonders whether to wait for Ted and the snacks, as he is getting very hungry, but decides to do a 'foot patrol' over to the Church and get a snack from the Laughing Buddahoover while he's there.

As the evening draws in and the moon shines brighter, he keeps a lookout for anything unusual as he goes. At the Laughing Buddahoover, he orders a small portion of Pad Thai and sits at a table in the window so he can watch the goings on outside. It doesn't take the chef long to cook the meal, and it doesn't take the Sheriff long to eat it and enjoy it very much.

When he is ready to move, he crosses the street and enters the solemn grandeur of the First Church of Nighthoover.

Ted arrived just after the Sheriff left.

While Paula is preparing the climbing materials, I distribute the croquettes with mustard in a bun.

OK, up you go...

Not too fast, I can't keep up with the rope... There you go.

BLOCK!!!

You can start building a belaying point now. Do you think the Lady is still solid enough to carry all?

Finished? Good. Who will go up next? Alex? Have you done this before? Do you have an HMS and a lifeline? Up you go...

I want everyone up there before that clock strikes..

Yay! The sheriff responded! There will be some eyes out for that big ol' kitty.

Meanwhile Wynken is still tracking using his drone's ultra-sensitive infrared vision. The tracks of the cat have skirted the mountains as it moved south. It might indeed be out of the park … and now night is falling. He will have to track the beast by night … and if he finds it, capture it also. Alone. He can't let anyone else get involved in this...

Hermione had got back to the Town Hall without any further difficulty. Now she was sitting at her desk, trying to convince herself she wasn't really going mad. The strange noise, like a jet plane taking off in a thunderstorm, could have been created in a number of ways. Farmers racing tractors? A real jet plane passing low overhead? As for the big cat, she supposed she could have got the size wrong. Perhaps it was a bobcat, standing nearer than she'd thought. None of this convinced her.
It would be growing dark soon, so she should be going home before anything else weird happened.

As she mused, she glanced outside and saw something that made her blink, then push back her chair and walk to the window. There were thick ropes snaking up the side of the Town Hall, as if someone had gone mountaineering. That was crazy too? Who would want to climb the side of the Town Hall? For a moment, she wondered it the students who were supposed to have shot at the Lady of Justice had decided to cut her to pieces instead. She thought of throwing the window open and hollering 'Leave the Lady alone!' Then it occurred to her they might be armed.

Instead, she stood as close to the window as she could and draped herself in the thick curtains. The dust in them made her sneeze. Suddenly, she caught sight of a plump middle aged man struggling up the wall, with his feet braced against the bricks. She caught sight of a red face. Fred Ireland! For a moment, she couldn't believe her eyes. Of course, he might have wanted to clean the statue, but why couldn't he have entered the building, walked up the stairs to the attic and attached his ropes from there? She would have given him every assistance. Instead, he was dangling on a rope outside her window when it was just getting dark. The man must be mad!

The thought suddenly made her laugh. Of course, she wasn't the one who was mad. The rest of the townspeople were crazier by far.

[ Everyone in Hooverville is sane. It's the sanest place on earth. ]

Superfrenchie wins Best Drunk Act today.

FWR wins an award for Best Referencing.

MVP wins Most Cogent Observation award for noting that everybody in town is nutty as a fruitcake.

So, it's a group flouting of the rules?

Definitely. When I said, 'Don't contradict each other's realities,' I was being short-sighted, not realising that some of the characters would be such unreliable narrators. As unreliable narrators, these characters put Edgar Allen Poe in the shade.

Announce to the world, if you like, that you think your neighbours are off their rockers. Just don't move them around without their permission, and don't infringe on their territories.

Or grab the spotlight, unless you are Zasu Pitts, the Queen of the Cutting Room Floor.