Round Robin # Purple
This one has other people than the Rutles in it. Therefore, Normal writing is Penny, Bold is Leah and the others are all Italic.
"May I use the plop-plop machine?" Ford Prefect inquired. He was in the middle of a supper party—with very excellent food.
The very excellent food took offence at being eaten and then so quickly expelled. It attacked!
"Watch out, everyone," Ford advised as a large shepherd's pie hit his face.
"Food can get very vicious. In fact, I give us all five minutes to live." This comment was a ridiculous show of bravado.
It was really more like six.
Ford ran across the room, diving behind tables and dodging roast legs of lamb.
But the food had a plan.
It attacked them...again.
"Curses!" shouted Ford, "I wasn't counting on such a brilliant plan!"
He landed on the ground, temporarily felled by a cloud of peas. He struggled to behind a chair.
"I will have to match their ingenious plan!" he muttered.
Arthur Dent emerged from the bathroom just in time to see Ford Prefect attempted to eat flying food at an incredible speed.
"Why do I always go to Ford's parties?" Arthur moaned.
"I'd be much safer drinking twelve shots of hard liquor and attempting to clean the bathroom. Things would probably make more sense too."
Arthur walked up to Ford and tapped him on the shoulder. Ford turned around, holding half of a rather large carrot.
"Excuse me," said Arthur, "Can you please explain why the food is attacking?" It seemed to be the kind of thing that happened to him lately, but he saw no harm in asking.
"Well, I think someone insulted it," Ford explained.
"Oh," said Arthur, "Why don't you just apologise instead of…whatever you are doing."
"That's simple. So simple, it would have taken your underdeveloped brain to think of it!" Ford exclaimed. He looked around the room.
"Listen all you food! We apologise!"
The food thought that was fair enough and stopped attacking.
"That was a close one," Ford said relievedly.
"What?" asked Arthur.
"I'm beginning to think Zaphod was right about you," snapped Ford testily.
"Er, let's eat!" said Arthur hungrily. The food took offence again and ATTACKED!
"Ahh!" said Arthur, "I can't take this! Let's go somewhere to get some nice, safe, non-violent takeout."
"Yeah! Let's go to Zaphod's!" agreed Ford enthusiastically.
"No, nevermind, here is good," Arthur said hastily.
He started trying to catch flying food with his mouth and made a little game out of it.
"Did you just make a game out of it?" asked Ford.
"Yes," said Arthur cheerfully.
"Well don't. This is deadly serious."
"Is that so?" asked Arthur angrily, "Well I don't think so! On Earth things make sense! And sometimes the sense is very serious—but insanity is never serious—well, yes, sometimes it is very serious but, oh I don't know what I'm saying anymore."
Incidentally, in Jubanese these words mean: "Your mother is fat—please kill me now."
By another extraordinary coincidence, a pair of Jubanese lifeforms overheard his words and killed him.
And Ford too, just in case.
THE END
Leah: All the characters here are Douglas Adams'. Penny invented the Jubanese. The plop-plop machine was a joke by some comedian that I forget the name of.Penny, do you have anything incredibly witty to say here?
Penny: No.
Leah: Ah well. Okay then. I forgot to mention that Marion wasn't in this one at all, so she doesn't get to comment. Ha Ha.
Has anyone noticed that I'm the only one who ever talks at the end of our stories? Well, that's because I'm the only one who types them up. I have to struggle to get answers out of the others.
How harrowing.
