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

*in the middle of the room stands a large circular table. In seats around the table are a number of disreputable webjello's all playing cards and arguing with each other. In the main chair is Rebjello - a particularly mean character with bad breath and a badder attitude*

*he is presently trying to cut his fingernails with a large and wicked looking Bowie knife and not making a very good job of it*

Hey barman, another round of your best rot-gut whisky over here - and don't dawdle like last time .

*he spits his baccy towards the spitoon but misses badly and hits the barman*

Dang !

*Bursts out of the back room*

Dang! I can't beat that copy protection. It's a great game, too, but I can't get any farther without the manual.

Bartender! Get me a whiskey! And clean off your boot.

*Shots ring out from the street outside, and some grape jello splatters on the window. The poker players briefly look up, then resume play. Moments later, the Celery walks in through the swinging doors.*

Someone go tell the undertaker to get his hose. There's a bit of a mess outside for him to clean up.

Hi Boss, sure is quiet around here today.

Sure is, Reb. That's only the third shootout today.

*Turns to Butch Webjello*

Any luck breaking the copy protection, Butch?

*watching the other poker playing webjello's carefully, Reb selects a card from his hand and places it on the table - it is the Ace of Emeralds*

Any of yew boys got a problem with thart ?

No luck, chief. There's millions of combinations.

*A hush falls over the room as a card is played at the poker table. The tension in the air is palpable as everyone waits to see what will happen.

Suddenly, one of the webjellos at the table jumps up and reaches for his gun*

*Guns are pulled from every direction and but before anyone can pull a trigger Rebjello's hand blurs and a Bowie knife arcs across the room taking the webjello between the eyes. It wobbles for a brief moment then oozes to the ground*

I alus did admire James Coburn in the Magnificent Seven.

*spit*

Dang !

*Holsters his own gun, as the room calms down. Walks over to Rebjello.*


I had ya covered there, buddy, but I knew you didn't really need it.


*A Giant Ape enters, wearing a white apron and carrying a dustpan and a broom. He sweeps the dead webjello into the dustpan, then takes out a wet cloth and gives the chair a cursory wipe. He leaves out the back door and the rattle of a garbage can lid is heard.*

*retrieves knife with a grin*

* The Sunjello Kid pushes his hat up off his eyes, and takes his feet off of the table in the corner where he's been catching some sleep *

What's with all the noise? An why's my glass empty?

Bartender! Get the Kid a new drink.

*To the room*

Drinks are on me, boys. In celebration of today's mission.

*Looks at Rebjello, Butch Webjello and the Sunjello Kid in turn and nods at each one.*

Time to get moving soon, you three.

* Downs the whiskey in one gulp. *

Hoo-eeee! We kin finely get passed that secret code in that thar game!

* Fires several shots into the ceiling. *

I've been waiting for this for a long time.

*Rubs hands in anticipation. Downs his whiskey and starts walking to the door.*

I hope our Giant Ape escort is ready. Come on, Kid, Reb. Let's get to that cabin and collect our reward. Heh heh heh.

I sent some Giant Apes ahead to make sure the coast was clear. Good luck, boys.

*goes outside to a tobacco coloured mare with an RRR brand on its rear, mounts it and speeds off into the distance after the Kid and Butch*

*pauses to shift one sleeve of her bright red lowcut dress a little further off her shoulder, and pats a stray blonde hair back into place then comes down the wide stairs from the "hotel" section of the building*

They gone? Good. I better take dinner to the prisoner.

Dang! *as several webjellos look up* You seen through the disguise!

*throws off the wig and runs out the back door*

*there is a scream from upstairs, and a moment later a redheaded woman in a bright green dress runs onto the landing* Stop that man! He stole my wig!

*watches, disgusted as the webjellos make some pretense of going after the fugitive, but knows that they have no ambition to put themselves in danger*

What a bunch of spineless... *Floradora comes down the stairs, showing the ballet-like grace of her childhood. Her long red hair lies loose down her back, and her figure is trim, but her face shows the consequences of suffering and loss, too many cigars, too much whiskey*

I better go check on the prisoner, make sure that interloper didn't get to her. Got a dinner made up for her?

*the bartender inclines his head toward the kitchens behind the stairs*