"Well, pulled might not be the proper word. Compelled to comply with the laws of physics when the bloody thing flipped open right next to the wardrobe. The furniture felt the compulsion too, and I nearly was knocked out by a flying tea tray. Which was followed by a sofa. I've learned I'm a good ducker."

I realize I'm still in a partial hug, but this is safe and nice. Very unlike floating loose in a vacuum.

"As odds would have it though, it seems there's a Vogon constructor fleet working outside the spaceport installing a hyperspace traffic roundabout. One of the on-board chefs saw me careen past his portal window and had me beamed in. That's the good news. The bad news is he made me taste-test the dessert he was preparing. I was sick for a week. When I felt able to move again, he popped me back here. Just in time to miss the Vogon's roundtable poetry slam."

I pause, catching my breath, wondering how much of that made any sense at all to you.

"I. Um. Well. I missed you. Quite a bit, actually."