Of all the hotels in the world...
Ford chased after Arthur. Of all the stupid Earth-men he had to befriend, his had to get his house knocked down today. Why Arthur was so attached to his damn dwelling Ford would never know, but Arthur was chasing after it to his certain doom. Ford was running low on energy, as well -- those beers were certainly kicking in nicely. The good news was they should be kicking in in Arthur as well. Right on cue, Arthur slowed down and Ford took the chance to tackle him, missing just slightly. Arthur started raving at the construction workers, who were all staring dumbly at the sky. Ford swore under his breath and shouted at Arthur to take cover. Arthur either ignored him or couldn't hear him, but he heard the Vogon ships well enough. They were close, now, tearing the Earth's atmosphere asunder and making a bloody racket why doing so.
"What the Hell's that!" Arthur was clearly panicking.
Ford beckoned Arthur over to a rock, "It's a fleet of Vogon Constructor Ships," he shouted, "What do you think it is?"
"A what?" Arthur dove for cover next to Ford, grabbing at Ford's ankles.
"A fleet of Vogon Constructor Ships!" Ford pulled the electronic thumb, a squat black rod with two buttons, one red and one green, on it with matching lights, out of his satchel and began pressing the buttons rapidly. "Grab hold of this!"
Arthur grabbed the thumb and the world went quiet.
Ford woke up, not quite sure where he was. When he stood, and gained his balance, he still wasn't quite sure. As far as he knew, Vogon ships in no way resembled deserts. They were more like filthy surgical rooms (and just as deadly). There was an old building behind him, probably abandoned, and Arthur was nowhere to be found. Not that the SCC usually worked perfectly, but he'd never heard of one screwing up quite this badly before. He just hoped he still wasn't on Earth. Putting his best of-course-I-know-where-I-am-and-what's-going-on face, he walked into the Hotel, smirking slightly at the name, and did a prompt double-take. This wasn't an abandoned building in the slightest. His know-it-all expression not faltering, he wandered up to the bell-hop and, in an attempt to look like he meant to be here, grinned. "G'day... um."
He searched for a name tag and found none, "Bellhop." he settled on lamely, "How much is it to rent a room here, if you'd be so kind?"
"What the Hell's that!" Arthur was clearly panicking.
Ford beckoned Arthur over to a rock, "It's a fleet of Vogon Constructor Ships," he shouted, "What do you think it is?"
"A what?" Arthur dove for cover next to Ford, grabbing at Ford's ankles.
"A fleet of Vogon Constructor Ships!" Ford pulled the electronic thumb, a squat black rod with two buttons, one red and one green, on it with matching lights, out of his satchel and began pressing the buttons rapidly. "Grab hold of this!"
Arthur grabbed the thumb and the world went quiet.
Ford woke up, not quite sure where he was. When he stood, and gained his balance, he still wasn't quite sure. As far as he knew, Vogon ships in no way resembled deserts. They were more like filthy surgical rooms (and just as deadly). There was an old building behind him, probably abandoned, and Arthur was nowhere to be found. Not that the SCC usually worked perfectly, but he'd never heard of one screwing up quite this badly before. He just hoped he still wasn't on Earth. Putting his best of-course-I-know-where-I-am-and-what's-going-on face, he walked into the Hotel, smirking slightly at the name, and did a prompt double-take. This wasn't an abandoned building in the slightest. His know-it-all expression not faltering, he wandered up to the bell-hop and, in an attempt to look like he meant to be here, grinned. "G'day... um."
He searched for a name tag and found none, "Bellhop." he settled on lamely, "How much is it to rent a room here, if you'd be so kind?"