Douglas Adams: There was a point to this story, but it temporarily escaped the chronicler's mind…
Tori: Thank you, Adams-san! …though I may or may not have just been insulted…
Ke: This has gone too far… *takes away Tori's towel*
Tori: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
Ke: `(O.o)' *hands it back*
Tori: *passes out, clutching towel*
Ke: This story needs a disclaimer that we don't own anything… Mr. Adams, would you be so kind?
Adams: Yeah, you hadn't actually gone out of your way to call attention to that fact, had you? I mean like actually telling anyone or anything."
Ke: But the disclaimer is on display!
Adams: On display? I eventually had to go down to the cellar to find it!
Ke: That's the display department.
Adams: With a torch.
Ke: Ah, well the lights had probably gone.
Adams: So had the stairs.
Ke: But, look… you found the disclaimer didn't you?
Adams: Yes, yes I did. It was on display in the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory with a sign on the door saying "Beware of the Leopard."
Tori: *wakes up and holds up sign that says 'But seriously, we don't own anything.'*
~*~*~*~*~*~
Heero paused for a moment, his fingers poised above the laptop, thinking carefully. Then, with a sudden resolve, he swiped the cordless phone off the bedside table and dialed a number. He was sure to incorporate lots of little "*"s and "#" and whatnot, but in the end, it actually rang.
"Hitchhiker's Guide Headquarters. Can I help you?" a nasally voice that made the Perfect Soldier's ear tickle buzzed.
"Yes, can you please put me through to Ford Prefect? This is researcher #173F98G3 calling from the ZZ9 Plural Z Alpha region."
"One moment please." There was a silent pause. "Mr. Prefect isn't in at the moment. Can I take a message?"
"No, but can you have him give me a call if and when he does get there?"
"Certainly, sir. Recording your number now. Have a nice day."
"Yeah." Heero hung up and stared at the phone for a few minutes before he decided that no matter how long he looked at it, it wasn't going to do any trick, and it certainly wasn't going to ring.
Out in the hallway, there was the sound of a door opening, followed by a rather distressed yelp and a door slamming shut. Figuring Quatre had just accidentally stepped into Trowa's version of Good Cop, Bad Cop, he sighed heavily and lay back on his bed.
What he didn't figure was that Quatre would run into his room a few moments later, yelling about a rather large white ship that had apparently been parked through his bedroom wall, which is precisely what he did.
When Heero didn't make any attempt to respond in the three seconds Quatre took to breathe between sentences, he hurried off to find his boyfriend, Wu Fei to cry to.
Heero, on the other hand had actually decided that this claim merited an inspection and once the half-crazed Arab abandoned his doorway, he walked out into the hall and entered Quatre's room to see exactly what all the fuss was about.
"WHO PUT THIS ZARKING BUILDING HERE!?" came a rather annoyed voice. Its owner climbed through the wreckage it had created when it slammed through the wall and straightened up.
"Ford?"
"Yuy?"
The two men blinked at each other, then experimented with blinking at their surrounding, but decided they liked the former better and resumed where they had left off.
"I just tried calling you…"
"I was just thinking about you…"
"The improbability of you just randomly crashing your ship through our stratosphere and Quatre's wall were 2 to the power of 7,937,746,251,534,456.8… to one."
"That used to be my phone number…"
The two were staring blankly at each other when Duet walked in to inspect the cause of Quatre's most recent mental breakdown.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Tori: AHHHHHHHHH! TOO MANY STORIES AT ONCE! *runs off to work on Finders Inc.*
Ke: Well, at least she got her Toby story done…
Tori: *hurries over to The E-Mail*
Ke: And hopefully, Stanton and Lyra sent theirs in.
Tori: *snatches up Stanton + Tori collaboration*
Ke: `(^-^)' It's no different from back in Japan!