7.071067812…Squared Gherkins + 1 Aquatic Vertebrate With The Ability To Extract Oxygen From Water Via Gills

"No, really, I have sheaths for everything," said Clap.

"Show me," said Ford. Clap opened her coat, which was lined with different leather sheaths. Then her vest. Then she pointed out her boots.

"I call them George," she said.

"Why?" said Malea.

"Because they all have 'George' embroidered on them."

"That's the strangest sheath I've ever seen," said Ford, pointing. Clap looked.

"It's a grabbo-claw," she said, unsheathing it. It was a fairly typical grabbo claw.

"What's that for?" asked Malea. Clap reached forward with the claw and grabbed Ford's arm.

"Argh! I've been grabboed," he said. Then his eyes went wide and he collapsed.

"Whoa, that's surprisingly effective," said Malea.

"He'll be awake by tomorrow," said Clap.

"I've just had an idea," said Andema, walking in, "Let's have a kareoke contest!"

Malea dove under a table.

"I grabboed Ford," said Clap, "Did you notice?" She thought it would be funny to see Andema's reaction. Except that Andema wasn't listening.

"So, what about the kareoke?" said Andema.

"I can think of so many reasons against that," said Malea, her voice muffled due to her arms being clasped over her head.

"Ford is on the floor," stated Clap, "As I grabboed him."

"Kareoke seems pretty innocent to me," said Andema.

"It's not," said Malea.

"Oh. Fine the…"

"And you know why?"

"I said…"

"Ford Is Unconscious Because Of Me," said Clap slowly and pointedly.

"The reason kareoke is evil," said Malea, "is because of the effect it will have on this ship. I can tell you exactly what will happen."

"I don't particularly care."

"First," said Malea, ignoring Andema entirely, "You'll sing your song, which in the spirit of all kareoke stories will end up being some sort of love song to Ford. Maybe even Whitney Houston."

"That wasn't what I was intending."

"Look At Ford!" said Clap.

"Secondly," said Malea, "Zaphod will come up and sing something like 'I'm Too Sexy' or else something like 'Born To Be Wild'. Then I'd come up and sing something Beatles related, or maybe I'm Going Slightly Mad."

"Andema," said Clap, "Look at Ford!"

"Then after being pressured by the others," said Malea, "Arthur would go up and sing something also Beatles related but quite badly. Probably The Long and Winding Road. Then Clap would push him out of the way and sing… I Shot the Sheriff, with some liberties taken on the lyrics. Or possibly Happiness is a Warm Gun."

"The Beatles feature heavily in this kareoke tournament," said Andema dryly.

"The Beatles are lifty," said Malea, "But anyways… Then Ford would go up and sing some Generic British Techno 80's Group song, while at the same time making Arthur very nervous about Ford's sexual orientation."

"Except not," said Andema.

"Sorry, but we ARE talking about a typical kareoke fic. And if there's one thing other than stupid drama that fanficcers like to work in, it's a homosexual relationship. Um, so probably You Spin Me Right Round, with appropriate dance moves. Hilarity ensues."

"Argh!" said Clap, unsheathing what turned out to be a cardboard tube. She bonked Andema on the head with it at each word she said.

"Why Won't You Listen I Knocked Ford Out With A Grabbo Claw!"

"And then everyone would laugh at Arthur and Trillian would make Random sing, and she'd sing something by some obscure alien artist that no-one but Zaphod would recognise. Then Trillian would sing…um…"

"That really doesn't hurt," said Andema. Clap looked at the tube.

"Hmm… You're probably right."

"She'd sing…nothing! We'd try to make her sing but she wouldn't. And then everyone would laugh again and go eat something." Clap was looking puzzled.

"How long have you been figuring that out for?" said Andema.

"A while…"

"And I still don't know why you don't want to do the contest," said Andema, "Even if it does turn out like you said, that sounds like fun."

"Er…"

"So…" said Clap, "Does this hurt, then?" BANG.

"Aargh! Yes! My arm!"

"I knew it would, eventually," said Clap triumphantly.

"That…ngaaa…wasn't even fair! You shot me!" said Andema.

"That's death!" said Clap cheerfully, "Oh dear, I meant life, didn't I."

"That's it!" said Andema. She pulled out her other gun and rolled sideways, shooting.

Malea nervously crawled out from under the table, dodged some gunfire and a thrown dagger, and ran out the door. She continued to run, as far away from the room as she thought necessary. Finally, she stopped, mostly because of the white stairs emerging from the ceiling. And the annoying twanging noises coming from said ceiling.

"What is that?" said Arthur, "I was trying to sleep, and it kept waking me up."

"If you go up and check, I'll give you a really important piece of information."

"All right, what?"

"Don't go down the hall I was just in: Andema and Clap are shooting things." And with that, she ran away. Arthur began to climb the stairs to the attic. The twanging sounds, he now realised, came from a guitar. He reached the top, and stepped onto the wooden floorboards.

Sitting on faded armchairs, in a corner, were his daughter and a rather stylish blond man Arthur had never seen before. Oh well. He supposed now would be a good time to be a father. Now, what was he expected to say…

"Hello, Random," he said tentatively, "Er… learning the guitar?" Random was, indeed, holding a guitar.

"Yeah," said Random, effectively shutting him down. Damn. Some sort of father instinct he didn't know he had flared up.

"Er…and who is this…man you're with?" He had originally wanted to say 'young man', but the other man looked like he was in his mid-to-late 20's.

"Oh my god, dad," said Random, "Why do you have to invade in my life?"

"Er…" said Arthur. It seemed to be the applicable word for the situation.

"I'll introduce myself," said the blond man, in a rather strong Welsh accent, "My name is Howell Pendragon." A spark of defiance rose in the babbling, confused mess that was currently Arthur.

"And what, exactly, are you doing with my daughter?" Arthur said in what he thought were steely tones, but actually came out as a strangled nasal sound. Random writhed with teenage embarrassment.

"I was teaching your daughter the guitar," said Howell, managing to sound sarcastic.

"Oh?" said Arthur, grasping for an argument, "Then…why did it sound so awful?"

'Daaas!" wailed random.

"She is a beginner," said Howell firmly. This seemed to end the conversation.

"Well…well…fine then. I'll just, er, leave you to your guitaring then," said Arthur, backing down the stairs. He began to walk down the hall that led to the gunfight, corrected himself, and walked in the opposite direction.

Back in the attic, Howell and Random were probably kissing. Arthur really wasn't very experienced at the fathering business.

Howell wasn't very experienced at the guitar. He had been making most of the twanging noises.

"Noodles!" said Zaphod.

"No!" said Trillian.

"Yes!"

"No! I am not making noodles!"

"Why not!"

"Because I've already started on chicken, and a meal can't be all one colour!"

"That's a stupid concept. Noodles!"

"Shouting 'noodles' at me will not make me make them!"

"Oo," said Arthur, and left. The kitchen was a strange place.

"Can't you dye the chicken purple or something?"

"No."

"…"

"…"

"Noodles!"

"No!"

"Argh!"

"You'll never take me alive!" said Clap, which was silly, because she was winning. Andema gritted her teeth and aimed another shot. Clap delicately kicked the gun out of her hand.

"I Win," she said softly, and walked away. 30 seconds later, she came back in and began to dig the bullet out of Andema's arm.

"What?" said Andema.

"Well, it would have ruined the effect if I had helped you right after I said 'I Win'."

"But…weren't we fighting?"

"Of course not," said Clap, sounding perplexed, "We were just having some fun. A game."

"Right…" said Andema, looking at her various wounds, "A game…"

"Are you actually a wizard?" asked Random. Howell smiled.

"Yes, of course, I'll show you." He muttered some words, made some hand motions and disappeared. Forever. Random cried, and went off to sulk.

"I won too easily," said Howell, when he got home.

"I can't believe you went to a different world to flirt," said Calcifer.

THE END

I can't believe they let someone as unbalanced as Clap into the Galactic Police. They must have very low standards.

Howell is from the lovely book Howl's Moving Castle by the brilliant Diana Wynne Jones. And not, I must stress, from the movie of the same name. Different character entirely.

I have read SO many bad kareoke fics, you can't even begin to imagine. So, that's my analysis of a Fragments kareoke fic. Tell me how accurate you think it is, I long for attention. ;)

Cause, dude! I have over 100 reviews! I love you guys!

Saith Rayse: I sincerely hope you're making fun of Random. Oh, Random. You're such a stereotypical teenager. No worries about the attention span. I'm about the same. It's really long because I kept losing inspiration to write it, and then coming back until it became like, 5 fics in one.

Nine of Swords: Yeah…I'm actually serious sometimes…Go figure.

nasamuffin: I love Strong Bad emails… But, actually, no inspiration from that whatsoever. It's just a really dramatic thing to shout. Also, you're my 100th reviewer/balloons/

Fellowship of the Band Geeks: Neat! Um, Trillian is cool, but she's hard to write for me because of her seriousness. I try, though. Man, she's hardly in this one… I like the idea of her cooking occasionally, though. It's funny. Probably therapeutic.

BeatlesLover: Thanks. I'm glad you thought so. Or, er, didn't think so… Anyhoo, I AM trying to balance it out. Ford is pretty much my favourite character to write, so I overuse him everywhere else. So I've been trying to use him slightly less. Or, had been trying, when I wrote these. So, as you may notice, he's not really in this one either. I think he's a bit more in the next one, and a LOT more in the next next one. Look forward to Ford getting a posse in the next next one. And, I knew you were a girl…So there! And, I'm afraid not everyone loves the Beatles. In my Grade 6 class, it was cool to hate them, and I was so OUT. Although, I've never really been in the in crowd anyways…

Lily Knotwise: Thanks Ringo! Whoo Beatles and Gorillaz too! Um, finding out how many I've written would actually require looking. Can we say in total, an estimate of 35?

Rogue-of-Fortune: Complying.

Robotic. Answer. Beep.

Exterminate.