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

I've spent at least five Novembers writing novella, one chapter per day. Most were rubbish, though the Blemnox Saga was fun rubbish.

But the one I'm proudest of was "Off the beaten track,: which can be found here are here:
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Here's the first installment of it, to let you get your feet wet. Then you can click on the links.

Episode for November 1

Scotland Yard was having a bad time. Not only was the most notorious murder case of the year unsolved*, newspapers were hinting that Parliament was getting ready to decommission the Yard and outsource detective work. Heaven knew what sort of third-rate agency they would hire!

Then there was the Queen, who was miffed because the Yard had bungled the Crakkerjack Ripper case by unwittingly pinning the murders on Crakkerjack and Ripper, two horses who happened to be owned by the Queen's granddaughter.. "We had no idea they were horses" cut no ice at Buckingham palace, where the ever earthy Prince Philip compared the cream of the Yard's agents to an obvious part of a horse's anatomy.*

Better to suck it up and deal directly with agencies that owed Scotland Yard a few favors. If they solved the case, Scotland yard could at least share some credit.

Chief Inspector Dreyfus Lestrade seemed unable to make even that plan work, though. The best agencies, because of their success, had all the business they could handle, thank you very much! He was at the last name on his list now, an unorthodox agency called Off-the-Beaten Track Detective Agency.

"They aren't kidding about being off the beaten track," he exclaimed, noting that their home office was in Enfield, a tiny Massachusetts village that was ostensibly underwater in the middle of Quabbin Reservoir. "Do the staff go to work in scuba gear?" he wondered, dialing their number.


*A serial killer had been killing fat French women and high-church Unitarians. Yeah, I know, you'd think there wouldn't be any, but it's a big world, even for London. The only clues found at the scene were wrappers for oat bran cream puffs.

*The Crakkerjack Ripper killed young women in some particularly disgusting ways, then left a box of Crakkerjacks next to their bodies. The boxes contained neither Crakkerjacks nor toys, just a taunting note. One victim who refinished furniture got a note that said, "The Lady Varnishes." Another victim, who sold shirts for a sports memorabilia store in a shopping plaza got a note saying, "The Mall-Tees Falcons." So it went.