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

Chapter One:

Sylvia pulled up to the curb, and parked her motorcycle
next to a tree. She peered through the windows of J.P.'s Bar and
Grill. Seeing no customers, she opened the door and went in.

"Sylvia!" exclaimed the bartender. "I never expected
to see you here again."

"That'll be the day, Pete," Sylvia purred, fishing in her black
leather lace purse for cigarettes.

"You're not planning on smoking those here, are you?"
the bartender said.

She held up a pack of Benson & Hedges and delicately
felt inside with a black-gloved finger. "I ain't smoking these
anywhere. They're chocolate. Get the picture?"

"You're looking remarkably well, Sylvia," the bartender
remarked, "the surgery must have gone well."

"Yeah, it went well. Look at me, I'm an octogenarian.
I shouldn't even still be alive. There ain't many biker chicks
like me around, eh, Pete?" She smiled ruefully.

"Even if there were, they'd never measure up to you,
Sylvia. You're class all the way."

Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "You mean the black leather
lace, Pete? Heck, it ain't selling very well in my store. I've
gotta put it to use somehow." She pulled out another chocolate
cigarette.

"But you're wearing a thousand dollars worth of it.
I'll bet every geezer that sees you winks as you go by."

"So what if they do? Can't a granny have a little fun?
By the way, what in heck are you washing?"

"French fries."

"If you have to wash them, then you're buying the wrong
brand." She rolled her eyes. "They're supposed to come pre-washed."

"They do. But I like to wash them after they're cooked,
so the androids from Alpha Centauri don't snatch them away
when my back is turned."

"What drivel, Pete," she scoffed. "They're just hamsters.
And they won't bother your French fries. They're just out of
work since the terrorists blew up their lemonade stand."

(To be continued)

Deja vu...