Star Wars is the property of George Lucas and LFL. No profits were made and no disrespect is intended with this fic.

Round Robin
Part Fifteen
by Arwen



Arwen stepped off of the shuttle, inhaled deeply, looked around, and immediately regretted it. First, it was hot. Secondly, it was smoggy. Thirdly, Arwen was jet-lagged.

Stiffly, Arwen began to walk towards the customs person, a nonhuman of some sort that resembled a half-smoked doobie with legs and arms- kinda like Mr. Butts from 'Doonsbury.' He/she/it wheezed "passport, please," and Arwen pulled out the little blue booklet and handed it over.

"Mmmm-ah--mmm--aaah-pah!" the customs official said. Arwen blinked. She had been reading "Dune" on the shuttle, and had to wonder if the customs offical was channelling the spirit of Margot Fenring (1). She sincerely hoped not. But the passport was duly stamped and Arwen walked on. Beyond the double doors, Arwen saw a rather short man holding a sign reading 'World Three' and she headed his way. Halfway there, however, he turned into a penguin. Arwen recoiled and did an abrupt about-face. The penguin squawked, "Hey, be froody! Stay with me!" (2) but she ignored it. She saw another man holding a sign reading "WAAS Convention" and headed *his* way. She paused halfway there, waiting for a transfiguration, but it didn't come- thankfully. She stopped in front of him and offered her hand. "Arwen." The man took it and shook warmly. "Wes Janson." He picked up her bags and they headed for the exit. As the walked, he said, "Tell me, what are you doing to Hobbie?"

"What?"

"I mean, when is he gonna get his memory back?"

Arwen blinked. "Huh?"

"Your fic!"

"Oh! Hobbi(t)! Well, I don't know, my plot bunny has run away."

They walked out of the spaceport and to the hotel where Arwen heard more than her share of snide comments.

(1) Does anyone get this reference? :D

(2) Requisite HHG reference :D


Continued in 16