Part One. Wouldn't you kill for a Vegemite Sandwich? G'day, mates! Crikey! I'm coming to you today, Your Koala-ness, from a land down under! Let me explain. In my last transmission, I told you that we had headed out into the desert. The Large-Jawed Woman maintains a small camp there to which she retreats in times of stress, always assuming that you define stress as your landlord kicking you out. The failure of her offspring to provide the small pieces of papers that Terrans exchange in order to get food had left her in a quandary. While it is true that she has several months worth of delicious cheese snacks stockpiled in the abandoned missile silo we currently call home, I am not sure that she would be able to survive only upon those. So time is critical! The next day we went to Kinko's again so that the Large Jawed Woman could wait until someone using a computer left before his or her allotted time was up. In order to be inconspicuous, I was in a large, very old Dolce and Gabbana shopping bag that I quickly gnawed eye holes into the side so that I could see. First the Large Jawed Woman made her usual rounds, which include this very transmission site, Your Pulchritude, as well as a site that seems to be dedicated to her. She then did a search under her name, and this is where the trouble started. Apparently something that popped up on the screen disturbed the Large Jawed Woman. "Australia?!!?" She growled. "Who the four letter Terran word for coitus have I conned in Australia?" The next thing I knew she had hoisted the shopping bag and started out of the Kinko's. Unfortunately, the bag was old, and my weight caused the bottom to tear loose. I quickly covered by using my rear appendages to waddle alongside her, the rest of me covered by the paper bag. It would have looked unusual anywhere else, a woman accompanied by a walking Dolce and Gabbana shopping bag that is, but the staff at this Kinko's are so used to the behaviors of the Large Jawed Woman that none of them even batted an eye. Once we were in the car, she gunned the motor and we headed for LAX, the principal venue for flying transport vehicles. She screeched to a halt as close to a terminal as possible, grasped the handle of the bag, and we set off into the crowds, abandoning the car. The next thing I knew we were standing in line at TSA. Of course I had no idea how the Large Jawed Woman would handle the security personnel, but luck was with her. Just ahead of us was an older Terran. The guard stopped him. "You forgot to take off your belt, Mr. Gibson." "Did I, Sugar Tits?" "Excuse me?" "You're a Jew, aren't you?" "What?" "You people control everything!" By now the altercation had increased in volume to the extent that all of the other TSA guards were milling around Mr. Gibson, leaving one young woman alone at the head of the line. The Large Jawed Woman stalked past her. When the young guard attempted to stop her, the Large Jawed Woman passed her hand in front of her face. "Excuse me, ma'am, but I need to see your papers, passport and a license for the . . . for whatever that thing is," the guard said. "You don't need to see our papers. These are not the droids you've been looking for." "What the hell are you talking about, lady? I need to see your ---- oh, shit!" The young guard turned her head in time to see Mr. Gibson, now without pants, being chased around by a covey of TSA guards. "You two wait here." Our guard took off in hot pursuit of the pack. By this time Mr. Gibson had climbed to the roof of the Cinnabon and was screaming, "which one of you bitches want to have my baby?" The Large Jawed Woman yanked me out of the shopping bag. "Run for it, E.T.!" She said fiercely, and took off sprinting down the concourse. I followed as best I could, but at more of a waddle than a run. She skidded to a halt in front of the Qantas desk, and rapidly scanned the crowd of passengers waiting to embark. As soon as a mother stood up to take her young daughter to the Waste Elimination Area, the Large Jawed Woman grimaced at me, and we followed them into the chamber. Five minutes later we emerged. The Large Jawed Woman was now dressed in orange capri pants and a flowery top, and was wearing the other woman's hair, which happily could be removed in one piece, revealing a completely different color beneath it. I was wearing sparkly sandals that hurt my feet, and a Hello, Kitty top, really cute, if I do say so myself. And ten minutes later we were on the plane, off at last to Melbourne!