This article is classified "Fictional"
The following is an eye-witness account of one Hitchhiker's experiences:
THE LOBSTER BEINGS
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It all started one drunken night at Rottnest. We were staying in a flat
at Longreach, which is quite a long way off from the pub and night-life.
Longreach consists of two parallel lines of houses, the first quite high
and overlooking the second, with a small road in between the two. The
houses were quite nice, single story but all joined together, a little
like English terrace houses. We were in one on the back row, so we had a
balcony that looked over the second row of houses.
It was a quiet night. We had been partying pretty solidly for about four
days, and it seemed that there was a unanimous, unspoken decision to
have an early night. Or at least, almost unanimous. I was unanimous that
it was a night to party!
My beer supplies were short. We had finished the hard booze, and everyone
else had crashed out at around midnight, leaving me and my towel alone
at the table. I had my towel in classic party-mode form - that is,
rolled into a batman-style cape, and slung around my neck.
I took stock of my situation:
Clothing: bare feet, board shorts and a Manic Depressive Society T-shirt,
blue towelling cape, and reflect-o sunglasses.
Supplies: 4 cold cans of Emu Export Lager. Unfortunately this was well
after the days of steel cans, but at least with the aluminium cans, you
have the advantage of a plastic six-pack holder to carry them in.
Companions: None. All wimped out, the pikers.
OK, maybe I should excuse them a little. We had some crayfishing planned
for the next day, so they had gone to bed early. I was following a hitch
hikers recommendation, and not going to sleep.
So, with my meagre possessions, I decided to head out, and see what action I
could find. I wandered along the first line of houses - nothing. All
dark and quiet. I got down to the road, and came back along the second
line of houses. At last, a party! Lights, noise, action. I attempted
a classic "Gate Crashers Entrance", and strolled into the room as if I
knew at least half the people.
Well, the plan was a brave one, and as usual the only thing in the path of
complete success was that old bastard - reality. It's great pretending to
know half the people, but when there are only three to start with, it
gets a little tricky to pull off.
I managed to pull it off anyway, using a certain measure of bravado,
sat down, and opened a beer. They didn't seem particularly interested in
me though. There were 2 guys and a girl, all about 16, playing loud
music, and then yelling over the music to be heard. I spoke to them a
little bit, but whatever trip it was they were on, it didn't have any
room for outsiders.
I finished my beer, and blew that crazy dive. I opened my pre-penultimate
beer, and headed off along the road, planning to make the circle back
to our house. It was here that things started to get wierd. The story
as I later told it was as follows:
"I was walking back up the road, when I heard a strange whistling
sound all around me. (I purse my lips and demonstrate this.) My
body seemed to waver, like really bad Young-Ones style special
effects, and I found myself in, what I figured to be, a spaceship.
There were two or three creatures watching me, that could only be
described as Lobster Beings - half manlike, but with lobster
feelers and eyes, and normal arms with pincers for hands. (At this
point I had my hand underneath my nose, wiggling my fingers, in the
international "squidy/crabby/lobstery type thing" sign.) They
looked at me, and said "We see you have two cans of beer". They
were quite right. I had finished my second can of beer, and had
the last two, still in the six-pack holder. With great wit and
forethought, I replied, "Err, yes?"
"Can we have one", one Lobster Being asked. I considered this
for a moment, and said "Sure!", and handed one over. I am not
quite sure what he planed to do with it, because I couldn't see
any sort of mouth he could drink it with. They then asked me if
I would like to go to a party, and of course, I agreed. They
then told me that they were going to have to remove my sarcasm
gland, as they were impervious to all forms of physical attack,
but sarcasm kills them instantly. I found this strange, but
readily agreed. They pricked me with something, just behind and
below one of my ears (I don't recall which one), and then we set
off for the party. The party was wild, but I don't seem to
remember any actual details.
"So, they dropped me off home afterwards, but with a 100 million
light year (or thereabouts) journey, their navigation was not too
exact, and they missed by three houses. I didn't check this, and
after hammering on the door for ten minutes, I decided that no one
was going to let me in, and so I lay down, pulled my towel over
myself, and went to sleep."
About this time, I realised that I had been telling this story for about
half an hour, without a pause, to a group of my friends, and I couldn't
actually remember any of the story! I had to ask them to repeat to me what
I had just told them.
So, the facts that we have, are that I remember clearly walking up the road
behind the houses, with two cans of beer, and then I came to in a room full
of my friends, with one can of beer. They had been off to catch crayfish,
and on the way back, one had seen a flash of familiar blue in a garden
three doors down from our hut. She checked, and sure enough, it was my
towel, and even surer enough, I was underneath it, asleep and cuddling one
warm can of beer. They woke me up and took me back to the flat, where I
lay down and started to recount this wonderful story.
The funny thing was, I wasn't sarcastic for a week afterwards.