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

"I'm not your husband!" Paulh screamed as the fat lady from Griffindor pulled him along a corridor that seemed to stretch on toward infinity.

"No one, not even the Dark Lord himself, can keep me from having you," the fat lady retorted.

"It's better this way," the Cloak of Magic Realism whispered in Paulh's ear.

"But I had a prestigious job lined up," Paulh protested. "Dumbledore hired me to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts..."

"They'd have spotted you as impostor within ten minutes," the Cloak reasoned. "You would've been in Azhkaban by lunch time. You don't want to eat lunch in Azhkaban. It has teeth! Anyway, the author of this
story has a better job lined up for you. One that will give you all the haggis you can eat"

Just then they passed an opening in the wall. The cloak pulled Paulh out of the fat lady's grasp and through the opening into a drawing room in a medieval manor home. A woman down the hall was shooing a dog toward the door. "Out, d*mn Spot!" she screeched.

"Let's take a walk on the heath," the Cloak suggested as they left by the rear exit. Three ugly women sat around a fire with a cauldron at the edge of the heath. "Hail, Paulh, Thane of Glamis!" they intoned solemnly as he drew near.

"Shouldn't you be hailing MacBeth?" Paul wondered.

"We paid Mr. Shakespeare to rewrite the script for you," the Cloak explained.

Just then an angry Scot with a big sword ran at Paulh. "Run!" the cloak shouted. "That's MacDuff!"

[Amy P]

Thanks, Amy. I'm happy that you're reading my serial. We're halfway through, but big adventures still lie ahead.....

As long as on the road to Dusinane there doth not lie a head...

(Remind me to tell you my stories about Macbeth's head one of these days.)

Paulh is about to be airlifted to safer climes, though they won't be safe for long.