So Long, and Thanks for all the X-Wings
Part Six
by Mish

Subtitled: Part 6: The part in which nothing much happens apart from the WAASers and the guys moving out...


Tycho, Wedge, Wes, Ford, Face and assorted people of the female persuasion (or so we were led to believe) walked, ran, stumbled, or swerved their way out of the Restaurant At The End Of The Universe.

Mish and Claire were chatting to each other in a highly excited and conspiratal fashion, Mish having, in a moment of impressive drunken wisdom, decided that if she couldn't decide on Face or Ford, and if both Face and Ford had taken a fancy to both her and Claire, why didn't her (Mish) and Claire simply share the two attractive males? Needless to say, Claire had looked at Ford, then looked at Face, then immediately agreed (although it could be said that this was not immediate, since she'd had to look at Face and Ford first. However, we can discount this on behalf of the fact that who _wouldn't_ check out those two excellent specimens of human, uhm, well, perhaps not human, males?!)

Eden was the first to spot their ticket out of wherever-it-was-the-Restaurant-was-located (which was too inexplicably complicated and improbable to explain in such an apparently and hopefully light-hearted piece of fiction, especially considering for the most part this was written at the early hours of the morning. This ticket out was not in fact a ticket but a spaceship, of epic proportions.

"There it is." Eden proclaimed.

"Good. It's white." Zaphod said, "'cause that's my favourite colour."

Ili, who was attempting to subtly remove two of Zaphod's arms from around her waist, and slightly above her waist. She wasn't attempting this very well, but it didn't really bother her, "I'm sure it is." She replied, detecting his sarcasm.

"Okay, anyone know how to open the thing?" Wedge asked, still in Commander-Mode.

The WAASers shook their collective heads, some looking like they might have nodded if it hadn't been for the abundance of security guards outside the restaurant.

"Don't we have a key?" Anti asked.

"Maybe it's open?" Wes asked hopefully.

"Don't we have a ship?" Sil asked.

" Where's Mish?" Face asked.

"Will ya look at the size of that thing?" One of the WAASers asked.

"Who's stealing my lines?" Wedge asked.

"Where's Claire?" Ford asked.

"What's with the sudden questioning?" Tycho asked.

Mish and Claire returned, from unknown whereabouts, with a set of keys.

"We have keys!" Mish announced.

"What about the Heart of Gold?" Katrin asked.

"What about it?" Mish asked back.

"Don't we have that?"

"Oh, yeah. 'Cause that's that." She pointed at the ship behind the one everyone was looking at, the small running-shoe shaped ship.

"We didn't see that one." Kat explained.

"What are we waiting for troops?" Wedge said, sounding a bit like that commander chap out of Starship Troopers, re-enforcing the fact that the author had rediscovered said film. And watched it. More times than was strictly necessary. Or sane.

"A written invitation." Wes explained.

Rachel produced a slip of paper, which she handed to Wes. She grinned.

Wes read the piece of paper aloud, "'Let's move out!'"

Wedge regarded Rachel and Wes. "I was just about to say that."

They nodded in unison, and the gang moved out, and back into the Heart Of Gold, where Mish was the first to the Improbability Drive Generator, eyeing the big red button with which to make it work.

"What're you waiting for?" Zaphod asked her.

"I dunno." Mish replied, "It just seems to me that as DNA's publicist, and everything else Bop Ad-ise is after us, using the Infinite Improbability Drive again just seems like a pointless act of plaguerism against him..."

"Mish, are you loosing faith?" Ford's imploring eyes looked at her, and Mish was immediately under their spell, which reminded her of her pact with Claire, which made her feel slightly better about being put under his spell.

"Nah, I never had any to begin with." She replied cooly.

"Sure you did." Replied a familiar voice.

Mish took a wild look around the room, and her gaze rested on a familiar figure - if you could call it that.

"Well, maybe faith in cheeseplants." She muttered, firmly pushing down on the Infinite Improbability Drive Generator's Red Button, and twisting reality into unreality and unreality into blackness once again.

At least until the next installment.

Finis

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