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

Chapter 24

No sooner were we on the ground than Pete Surreal and his wife began haranguing us. In English. Uncle Floyd claimed to be Klondike O'Leary. He said he was old and weak and unable to pose any threat to them. I doubted that he could pass as harmless on that planet or any other, but he gave it a try, pleading for asylum after a terrifying escape from a violent volcano. At first they believed him, but suddenly Pete recognized his voice. What happened next was a drastic speeding up of the action.

Pete and his wife lunged at Uncle Floyd, their hands poised to grab his throat. Ulysses promptly grabbed the handles of Floyd's wheelchair and ran away as fast as he could -- which was pretty fast, even for someone pushing a wheelchair. They ran through the maze where hairless sheep straddled conveyor belts, squirting cheese onto pizzas that were moving beneath them. I seemed to be unnoticed in the general confusion, so I ran around the edge of the labyrinth.

Pete and his wife split up to go at the weaving wheelchair from both sides, whereupon I started squirting a stream of tomato sauce at the pursuers from a container that was handy. This barely slowed Pete and his wife down. As they closed in, Ulysses took a note from my tactics and grabbed a sheep with the udders pointed at them. He was able to squirt cheese at them very effectively. At last Pete got too close, so Ulysses grabbed the Wormhole generator and threw it across everyone's head in my direction. I made a flying leap, retrieved it, and kept on going.

Now Pete and his wife were after me. They must have been desperate to get the generator back. Now it was Ulysses' turn to distract them. He threw everything that came to hand: chopped onions, whole peppers, mushrooms, pepperoni sticks, even cannoli, firing them like bullets. The ones that connected with Pete or his wife spattered whipped cream across their faces, forcing them to stop long enough to wipe it away.

"They're bound to catch us eventually," Ulysses said when I got within earshot. This was a signal that it was time to head back to the ship, pull up the gangplank and be on our way again. I couldn't resist grabbing a stack of pizzas as I passed -- after all that exercise, we were going to be very hungry.

Pete caught the edge of Uncle Floyd's wheelchair just as it reached the gangplank. I thought we were doomed, but Floyd stood up, grabbed the wheelchair and hit Pete over the head with it. So much for being frail and helpless!

"Where to next?" I asked as I studied the Wormhole generator.

"Not MIT," Uncle Floyd said. "They're wise to me there."

I had no doubt that he was right about that. We couldn't go back to the volcano-rocked island, so I pressed the button for Times Square.

*holds breath*

Think New Yorkers won't even notice alien sheep or a boat landing in Times Square...good job you have sanity on your side!

You are right about New Yorkers' reactions, so I suspect you of having peeked at tomorrow's chapter.

Come on, everybody can guess you will be Somebody Else's Problem in the eyes of New Yorkers

Another disturbingly accurate prediction!

[Goes somewhere to plan surprises that no one will guess in a zillion years]

Not your fault, Paul. New Yorkers are too predictable.

You should have set the dingus to someplace else, like Bayonne...

Flocks of cheese filled bald sheep on the group W bench then.....

My problem was in finding some place I knew enough about to portray with any semblance of realism. I've been to Times Square -- at least I *think* it was Times Square. Okay, I think I could as easily have used Saint peter Square as a setting, but I can't imagine Aunt Horrifia being allowed to sit there day after day, giving away cake. That would be too for the Vatican powers-that-be.

I could also have put her in front of a piano bar in downtown San Francisco. Panhandlers are everywhere there, not unlike downtown Boston nowadays . I don't want to overuse Boston, as I might need it for some future stories . I don't want people to conclude that I overuse Boston as a setting just because I'm familiar with the place.

Any place in Paris was out, of course, because the French have this *ahem* reputation for being suspicious of anyone who dressed n a tiara and queenly robes and gave out cake. The Parisian authorities would have been all over her for not having a permit. New York is an anything-goes kind of place....

Spend a lot of time on volcanic islands talking to trees do you mate?

I wish I could .

That's my favourite Druid song: 'I talk to the trees, but they don't listen to me...'

I consulted *many* Druids in writing my story.

[Amy P]

re 9:

At least those sheep won't be drafted for the American military then

It's great to know that they were able to escape from Peter and his wife.