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

*A busy Heathrow Airport, a crowded check-in desk*

Next please!

*A small paw comes over the top of the counter and produces what only might be a passport, since it is made out of leaves and bark, and a ticket for New Zealand. The man behind the check-in desk leans over the counter and finds, on the other side and down below, a badger, looking up at him, with a badger-sized suitcase in hand*

Er ... hello there. Blimey. Er - right then - New Zealand, eh?

*Badger nods*

And the ... er ... purpose of your visit?

*Badger points directly upwards. The man squints as he reads*

'No ... Badger's ... Land" Ah. Thought you'd go and check this out, did you?

*Badger nods again*

And become New Zealand's only badger, eh? You know they're very strict as regards non-indigenous species being introduced into New Zealand, don't you?

*Badger deftly points out with paw that it is a return ticket*

All right. Fine. And you've no intention of ... oo, how do I put this? ... er ... well, not to put too fine a point on it, becoming a, how shall we say, breeding colony, badger-wise?

*Badger blushes. Then stares. Then points upwards again*

Ah yes. Ha ha. Right you are, silly me - no other badgers. Right then, that's ... er ... fine. If you just pop your suitcase up here. Gate 15 - boarding in an hour.

*Badger shuffles off towards the departure gates*

*goes off to check arrival times of flights from Heathrow*

*wonders if the flight makes a stopover in Sydney*

*Heathrow flight touches down. A crowd of badger fans are gathered at the arrivals gate. However, the badger has stopped off in Sydney for a few days. Instead, a distinguished looking man in a leather jacket and dark glasses, his face lined and craggy from no small amount of hard living back in Greenwich Village in the 60s and 70s, comes through customs and searches the crowd. Seeing Kea, he smiles and makes his way over to an empty spot, draws up a stool on which he sits, opens the case he is carrying and pulls out a guitar*

Distinguished-looking-man (almost whispering, in Brooklyn Accent): Hello, Noo Zealand.

Badger Fan One: Is that Lou Reed?

Badger Fan Two: You know, I think it is!


Satellite's gone, way up to Mars
(ba da da da, da da da da)
Soon it will be filled with parking cars
(ba da da da, da da da da)
I watched it for a little while
I love to watch things on TV
(dooo dada dooo dada dooo dada dooo dada)
*Bing Bing Bong*
Satellite of love
*Bing Bing Bong*
Satellite of love
*Bing Bing Bong*
Satellite of love
Saaaateeeelliiiiite of ...


Badger Fan One: Is that David Bowie?

Badger Fan Two: Certainly looks like it.

Badger Fan One: Good of him to come just to do the bing bing bongs.

Badger Fan Two: Yes.

*then stands in awe grinning idiotically as song continues*

*looks down and notices badgers following each other round in circles, swaying gently to the music as they go*

*Lou finishes his thirteen-hour set and wanders over to join Kea and the badgers*

Hmm - they look like they're made out of velvet. And they do live underground.

*Badgers look up and grin*

*kea and Lou stand there looking down at the velvet underground who are looking up very happy*

Anyone for a cup of ?

*Badgers nod happily - they would like theirs with milk and no sugar. And no tea. But with slugs. Oh and a blob of jam, if you've got any*

*Lou's eyes twinkle - thirty years ago, a bottle of Jack Daniels, but, right now, is good*

*asks badgers to gather some twigs, offers Lou a seat, and gets out the Thermette and mugs*

*Lou sits and crosses his legs. The badgers bounce as they gather twigs, excitedly wondering what the twigs are for*

*scrunches up an old copy of The Post and places in the bottom part of the Thermette. Puts twigs on top*

Thanks badgers

*cadges a box of matches off Lou and lights paper. Blows on it gently until twigs are going well and places top of thermette on top of fire*

*fills the termette carefully with water. Adds more twigs to the wee fire*

*fusses with and mugs, milk, jam, worms etc while water heats*

After a few minutes (yes!) water is boiling.

*Pours for everyone and hands round the mugs and scones*

*Lou offers everyone a spot of whiskey, which is eagerly accepted by the badgers*

Whiskey worm mmmMMMMmm.

*everyone sits in companionable silence for a few minutes sipping and watching the die-ing flames*

*Lou's brows furrow as he mentally scans his back catalogue for something lullaby-ish. Having settled on something smoooooooth, he describes a circle in the air with his finger. Bowie nods*


Wooooon't you be my wagon wheel?
*Shoop shoop*
Wooooon't you tell me baby, how do you feel?
*Shoop shoop*

*kea wanders in 20 hours later*

*waves to L and B*

*sits in comfy chair and listens...gently nods off*

Woah! Your lights are on! *Checks watch* Blummin' 'eck!

Hope was good. I actually made it into town myself today, to do a number of 'jobs' that should have been done weeks ago (well,I was awake and it was daylight, I thought I'd better seize the opportunity) and while I was there I found an on-sale copy of one of my favourite albums, Lour Reed's 'Berlin'.

So now I can fall asleep to the clear, digitalised sound of ... let me see if I can find that quote ... ah yes, here it is ... 'The single most depressing album ever made'.

Ah. *Glances over shoulder to where Lou has sunk into a bleaker mood than previously* 'The Sun Has Got His Hat On', anyone?

As soon as I posted that, your lights were off ...

Night, Kea!

....it's half past midday and I just got up, and now your lights are on!! Hang on...*tries to figure out time difference and gives up deciding to wait until I am awake before posting anything else in case I..*

It's ten to two in the morning here. Which is relatively early, by recent standards

Half past noon - that's the same time I got up today. It's not that I've *ever* been particularly good at mornings, but I think I'd like to see at least one from the right end this Summer

Having too much fun on hootoo though!

Perfect.

I'm trying to make myself hang the washing out before the sun goes down

I have someone coming in an hour and a half, so I will be forced off h2 then

Washing! I knew there was something else I had to do today. I was so proud of getting what I did get done, er, done, that I just forgot all about it. Well, not 'proud' exactly. Self-congratulatory, perhaps. And out of clean socks, obviously.

"Forced off" Hate it when that happens ...