This Chronic Liar

Ford was looking at a glass of water. He had been doing so for the last five hours.

"Ford, what are you doing?" said Arthur.

"This water is excited," said Ford.

"What?"

"Look at all those happy little molecules."

"I can't. They're too small."

"Your loss," said Ford, an intrigued look on his face. Clap walked into the room and drank the water. Ford continued to stare at where the glass had been.

"Does this five pound bag of sugar belong to anyone?" said Clap, "Because I'm getting tired of carrying it around."

"What kind of sugar?" said Malea. Clap opened it and checked.

"Whimsy."

"Sold!" cried Malea, and took it away from Clap.

"Good," said Clap, "I'll practise some lightsaber moves." She began to do something quite dangerous with her lightsaber.

"Wait," said Arthur, "Where did Malea come from?" Malea shrugged, and began to eat the sugar.

"Isn't that rather unhealthy?" said Arthur.

"Probably," said Andema, "It's never bothered me." Clap seemed to be fencing.

"Aha!" she shouted as she parried an imaginary attack.

"I suggest, then, you go to the next sausage," said Ford.

"Right," said Clap, who seemed to find this information helpful.

"All right, now I feel sick," said Malea. She carefully rolled down the top of the bag of sugar and secured it with an elastic.

Clap lunged with her lightsabre. Arthur fell backwards in an attempt to get out of the way.

"Throw a melon at me," said Clap.

"What?" said Arthur.

"Melon," said Clap, backing up and spinning the lightsabre in front of her. She finally stopped, her sword pointed in front of her. She bounced gently from foot to foot, her left hand held above and behind her head.

"But where…" said Arthur, trailing off when he noticed a melon beside him on the floor.

"How did that get there?" said Arthur.

"Throw!" said Clap.

"Argh! I can't stand it!" said Malea, grabbing the melon and throwing it at Clap.

"Wah!" said Clap, hitting the melon.

It exploded.

"Didn't expect that to happen," said Clap.

"What happened in here?" said Trillian, walking through the door. Every bit of the room was covered with melon. Arthur wiped melon off of his face.

"Clap exploded a melon."

"I liked these pants," Malea said mournfully.

Trillian frowned.

"Why is Ford staring at the table?"

"Loss?" said Clap, "Can I hit him with a textbook?"

"I don't know," said Malea, "Can you? Should we ask your doctor?"

"That was horrible," said Arthur, "One of my teachers always used to say that."

"Why are you wearing a hat?" said Clap, looking at Malea suspiciously, "Why do you never take it off?"

"I take it off," said Malea defensively.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." They glared at each other. Arthur thought it was a silly thing to get into an argument about.

"Well, take it off then," challenged Clap.

"I will," said Malea.

"Do it now."

"Okay." Malea took off her hat. She had red hair underneath the hat.

"Oh," said Clap, "I thought you were hiding something. Like baldness. Or antlers."

"How could she hide antlers under that hat?" said Trillian.

"They don't have to be pointy antlers," said Clap sulkily. Malea pulled her hat firmly back onto her head.

"When you were waving your sword-thing and bouncing a lot…" started Arthur.

"Yes?" Clap prompted.

"…why were you holding your other hand above your head?"

"That's a very important thing," said Clap, "The hand is supposed to hold something."

"Like what?"

"Like a samurai. Or a sandwich. You're never hungry when you fight."

"Oh. I thought it might supposed to be a dagger."

"Pff," said Clap derisively and flipped the melon from her hair. A piece hit Ford in the eye.

"Ow!" he said, "Melon!" He looked up.

"Wait a second… Did Malea take off her hat?"

"Yes," said Arthur.

"How'd you get her to do it?" said Ford. Andema poked her head in.

"Ah. I thought I heard the sound of a melon exploding."

"Andema?" said Malea.

"Yes?"

"What do you do for work?"

"I'm a ranger. I range."

"A space ranger?" said Clap.

"Yes."

"Oh."

"So," said Ford, "Want to go and get some takeout?"

"Space takeout?" said Clap.

"Yes."

"This juice is torturing me!" said Zaphod.

THE END

Okay. Sorry this one took so long, but I hate typing. A lot.

So, this one has a lot of thingys I have to make. Er, dedications? No. That's not what I mean. Oh well.

The title comes from a comment my friend Penny made although I can no longer remember the context. But I think it was funny.

Most of the comments Ford makes at the start come from various comments my science teacher made in class. I don't know what the "sausages" comment means either.

Um, lightsabers belong to George Lucas, or something.

I wore a hat for almost all of last year, so that's where the hat bit came from. People kept enticing me to take off my hat and I actually got three bonus points in History for taking it off. Score!

The "samurai and sandwich for fencing" bit came from a short class in stage fencing I got to go to. Those were two of the ideas thrown out and I got this image (or maybe Marion did, I'm not sure) of this fencer jabbing their blade out in front of them, "Ha HA!" and then taking a huge bite out of the sandwich in their hand.

Zaphod's only line comes from an advertisement for POM pomegranate juice. "Floss your arteries. Daily!" Best Ad EVER.

The story ideas belong to me, as does Malea, and at least half of the characters of Andema and Clap. The other half belongs to the actual people.

And, lastly, everything else belongs to Douglas Adams. Or whoever inherited the trademark, I have no idea.

Now for some comment commenting and question answering!

scathac's warrior: Well, I can't see it happening. As I said, huge rant on my LJ on why not.

Saith Rayse:Or so you think…

BeatlesLover: I like your name! And I also agree. With it. I mean, I also am one.

Adjectives are hard to come up with. That's why I like thesauruses. It makes me sound more intelligent than I am. Or less. I dunno.

Hannah: Oh yes, it started with the radio series. I think so, anyway. If he wrote some sort of cereal first, please tell me! And don't worry, the weirdness is part of my personality. There'd have to be some sort of…personality…sucker…outer…thing…

malakie: Yay, thesaurus!

Fellowship of the Band Geeks: Those are all good fandoms but, er, what the photon do you mean? I mean, "loosely based" could mean about anything. I'd probably be okay, but, just to be sure, could you define 'loosely based' in the next review or something?

Lily Knotwise: Huzzah! You're alive again! I'll get you that birthday story, I promise, just… stay alive, okay? Oh, and it totally has to do with a computer game. I was making fun of the plotline I wrote for my H2G2 computer game, which I never actually made.

Oh, and if there's anyone else, who wants to enter themselves in a story, still let me know in an email. I've got the others and I'm writing stories on them. I've just got a large amount of backup that I'm trying to get rid of. No worries. I'll have it done eventually.

This happens often. I start typing grudgingly, and then I can't stop. I should be able to bottle effort, then imbibe it when I need it most.

If anyone here invents bottled initiative, tell me first, okay?