Fit The Eight
ANNOUNCER:
’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’, by Douglas Adams. Starring Peter Jones as ‘The Book’.
NARRATOR:
Reason not withstanding, the universe continues unabated. Its history is terribly long and awfully difficult to understand, even in its simpler moments which are, roughly speaking, the beginning and the end. The wave harmonic theory of historical perception, in its simplest form, states that history is an illusion caused by the passage of time, and that time is an illusion caused by the passage of history. It also states that one’s perception of these illusions is conditioned by three important factors: who you are; where you are; and when you last had lunch with Zaphod Beeblebrox. Zaphod Beeblebrox’s last meal was taken at ’The Restaurant at the End of the Universe’, since when he has been catapulted through time in a Haggunenon spaceship; eaten by a carbon copy of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal; received strange and unedifying instructions from himself in his sleep, and in consequence made his way to the office building of ’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ which was then unaccountably attacked by a squadron of Frogstar fighters, hauled, in its entirety off the surface of the planet, and is now carrying Zaphod and his mysterious new friend Roosta in the general direction of the even more mysterious Frogstar. He is, therefore, not unnaturally, feeling a little peckish.
Scene 1. Int. Megadodo Publications Offices
ZAPHOD:
Hey, Roosta, is there anything to eat in this situation?
ROOSTA:
Here Zaphod. Suck this.
ZAPHOD:
You want me to suck your towel?
ROOSTA:
The yellow stripes are high in protein, the green ones have vitamin B and C complexes, and the little pink flowers contain wheat germ extract.
ZAPHOD:
What are the brown stains?
ROOSTA:
Barbeque sauce.
[ZAPHOD sucks towel]
ZAPHOD:
Yee-uck! It tastes as bad as it looks!
ROOSTA:
Yes. When I’ve had to suck that end a bit, I usually need to suck the other end too.
ZAPHOD:
Why? What’s in that?
ROOSTA:
Anti-depressants.
NARRATOR:
Much has been written on the subject of towels, most of which stresses the many practical functions they can serve for the modern Hitch-Hiker. Two seminal books are: Woydel Zing’s compendious tome ’Bath Sheets in Space’, which is far too large to carry, but sits magnificently on fashionable coffee tables, and Frap Gadz’s handbook ’Heavily Modified Face Flannels’, an altogether terser work for masochists. However, only ’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide’ explains that the towel has a far more important psychological value; in that anyone who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against mind-boggling odds, win through, and still know where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with. Hence a phrase which has passed into hitchhiking slang as in: “Hey you! Sass that hoopy Ford Prefect? There’s a frood who really knows where his towel is!” - “sass” means know, be aware of, meet, have sex with; “hoopy” means really together guy; and “frood” means really amazingly together guy. Meanwhile, important questions are beginning to frame themselves in Zaphod Beeblebrox’s mind.
Scene 2. Int. Megadodo Publications Offices
ZAPHOD:
Hey, er, Roosta, where did you say this building was flying to?
ROOSTA:
The Frogstar. The most totally evil place in the galaxy.
ZAPHOD:
Do they have, er, food there?
ROOSTA:
Food?! Have you the faintest idea what’s going to happen to you at the Frogstar?
ZAPHOD:
They’re gonna feed me?
ROOSTA:
They’re going to feed you all right!
ZAPHOD:
Great!
ROOSTA:
They’re going to feed you into the Total Perspective Vortex!
ZAPHOD:
The Total Perspective Vortex? Hey what’s that man?
ROOSTA:
Only the most savage psychic torture a sentient being can undergo!
ZAPHOD:
So no food, huh?
ROOSTA:
The treatment lasts one second, but the effects last your lifetime.
ZAPHOD:
You ever had a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster?
ROOSTA:
This is worse.
ZAPHOD:
Free-yowww!
[A man appears materialises in front of them]
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Ah! Hel-lo there. You must be Zaphod Beeblebrox, yes?
ZAPHOD:
Er, yeah. Er, hey, who are you?
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Oh, er, I’m the Frogstar Prisoner Relations Officer and I’m just popping by -
ZAPHOD:
How did you get here?
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Oh the usual thing: worked my way up the ranks -
ZAPHOD:
No. No, no. I mean, how did you get here. You just, er, popped out of nowhere like a large drinks bill.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
I know. Disconcerting isn’t it? Look, I just popped along to see how you were getting on. Enjoying the trip?
ZAPHOD:
No, not at all.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Oh. Well, it will soon be over. We should be arriving at the Frogstar in an hour or so. It is, as you may know, the most totally evil place in the galaxy. Even I find it pretty horrifying and I’m one of the most evil people on it.
ZAPHOD:
Oh yeah.?
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Oh yes! Oh quite staggeringly nasty. Anyway, enough with me, how about you? Is there anything in particular you want?
ROOSTA:
Be Careful.
ZAPHOD:
What?
ROOSTA:
This guy is evil; he’s from the Frogstar.
ZAPHOD:
Ease up man! He’s just asked me if there’s anything I wanted!
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Come on Mr. Beeblebrox, er, Zaphod. Hu-hu-hu. What would you like? What would you really like?
ZAPHOD:
A steak! A big, juicy steak.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
A steak? Ha-ha.
ZAPHOD:
Yeah.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Mmm. Delicious.
ZAPHOD:
And er…
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Some wine?
ZAPHOD:
Algolian Claris.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
The ‘Ninety-One?
ZAPHOD:
The ‘Ninety-Four.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Oh, Excellent Choice! Anything else?
ZAPHOD:
That’ll do me just fine.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Hu-hu-hu. Right. [Shouts] Turn the fire hoses on him!
ZAPHOD:
Hey, er, what?
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Enjoy your trip! Bye Now!
[High-pressure fire hoses go off]
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
[Laughs]
[The FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER vanishes]
ROOSTA:
Don’t say that I didn’t warn you Beeblebrox.
ZAPHOD:
Well what- the... hell was the point of all that?
ROOSTA:
They’re just playing with you! Softening you up. I told you: they’re going to put you into the Total Perspective Vortex!
ZAPHOD:
What is this thing!? What does it do?
ROOSTA:
The principle is very simple.
NARRATOR:
Though the principle on which the Total Perspective Vortex works is indeed very simple, it will not, for the moment, be revealed. The purpose of this deliberate withholding of vital information is to occasion sensations of suspense, fear, and anxiety, within the legal limits laid down by the Galactic Statute of Narrative Practice. These sensations can be emphasised further by referencing to this recording of a man being put in the Vortex:
[Sound of man being put in the Vortex]
MAN:
[Horrible scream]
NARRATOR:
And this one:
[Sound of another man being put in the Vortex]
MAN:
[Blood-curdling scream]
NARRATOR:
And this one:
[Sound of yet another man being put in the Vortex]
MAN:
[Bone-chilling scream]
NARRATOR:
Provided that equal emphasis is given to the fact that one man in the entire history of the cosmos did survive its effects unharmed. To establish the identity of this man, and see how he achieved it, it is now necessary to travel two-million years backwards in time, to where Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent are stranded in the primeval past of the utterly insignificant planet Earth. They are faced with a problem: in that a spaceship, which has apparently travelled back in time to rescue them, can not materialize until they have worked out a way of sending a message forward in time to summon it. This is clearly a terribly convoluted temporal paradox of mind-mangling complexity.
Scene 3. Int. Prehistoric Earth
ARTHUR:
Perhaps we could wave your towel at it.
FORD:
You know what your trouble is Arthur? You’ve got as much grasp of multi-temporal causality as a concussed bee.
ARTHUR:
oh. You don’t think it would work?
FORD:
No. That ship hovering there is only a potential ship, the possibility of one.
ARTHUR:
We could still wave at it.
FORD:
Yeah, very friendly but chronologically inept. Listen, we have to send a message forward in time…
ARTHUR:
Yes….
FORD:
…to where that spaceship is going to be.
ARTHUR:
We don’t know where.
FORD:
No.
ARTHUR:
We don’t know when.
FORD:
No.
ARTHUR:
And anyway, we haven’t got a time machine.
FORD:
No.
ARTHUR:
So?
FORD:
You’re right.
ARTHUR:
What?
FORD:
We might just as well wave a towel at it.
ARTHUR:
Right. [Shouts] Hello!!
FORD:
[Shouts] Hello!!
ARTHUR:
[Shouts] Hel-looo!!
ARTHUR:
[Shouts] Spaceship!!
FORD:
[Shouts] Over here!!
FORD:
[Shouts] Just down here!!
ARTHUR:
[Shouts] Coo-eee!!
FORD:
[Shouts] Coo-eee!!
FORD:
[Shouts] Coo-eee!!
ARTHUR:
[Shouts] Coo-
ARTHUR:
Ford! It’s coming down! Look it’s coming down to us!
FORD:
I don’t believe it. It’s impossible
ARTHUR:
But it’s happening.
FORD:
Hey, I don’t like the look of that.
ARTHUR:
What?
FORD:
It’s wobbling. I think it’s gonna crash. [Shouts] Fire your retro-rockets, you idiot!!
[The retro-rockets fire]
FORD:
[Shouts] Too hard!! Mush too hard!! Run Arthur! Run for your life! Make for the hill!
ARTHUR:
What hill?
FORD:
Well there was a hill there a moment ago.
ARTHUR:
What that rather nice one with all the daffodils?
FORD:
Damn the daffodils, the whole hill’s gone!
ARTHUR:
The ground’s heaving beneath us!
FORD:
That ship’s causing a bloody earthquake.
ARTHUR:
Look the hill’s come back!
[Sound of volcano erupting]
ARTHUR:
It’s erupting! It must be on a volcanic fault!
FORD:
[Shouts] Watch outtttttt!
[Massive volcanic eruption and sounds of destruction, eventually tailing off into echoey silence…]
ARTHUR:
Well. We did it.
FORD:
Yeah.
ARTHUR:
We flagged down a logically nonexistent spaceship with a towel.
FORD:
Yeah, great!
ARTHUR:
Marvelous!
FORD:
Wonderful!
ARTHUR:
Terrific!
FORD:
Tell me Arthur..?
ARTHUR:
Yes?
FORD:
This boulder were stuck under… how big would you say it was? Roughly.
ARTHUR:
Hmm. About the size of Coventry Cathedral.
FORD:
Do you think we could move it? … Ha. Just asking. Can you feel my rucksack anywhere?
ARTHUR:
Ummmmm. Hmm. Here.
FORD:
Ya see, it’s in these sorts of situations that it’s really good to have a guide to help you.
ARTHUR:
What?
FORD:
’The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’. It tells you what to do in any eventuality.
ARTHUR:
What, even being stuck in a crack in the ground beneath a giant boulder which you can’t move with no hope of rescue?
FORD:
Yeah. It’ll have something. Watch.
[The Guide starts up]
The BOOK:
What to do if you find yourself stuck in a crack in the ground underneath a giant boulder you can’t move with no hope of rescue: consider how lucky you are that life has been good to you so far. Alternatively, if life hasn’t been good to you so far, which, given your current circumstances seems more likely, consider how lucky you are that it won’t be troubling you much longer.
FORD:
It’s time I did something about that book.
ARTHUR:
Shame we lost the towel.
FORD:
What happened to it?
ARTHUR:
It blew away in the wind. Fell in the river and a stream of lava rolled over it.
FORD:
Hah, it’ll give the archaeologists something to think about: “prehistoric towel discovered in lava flow. Was God a Marks and Spencers sales assistant?” What are you doing Arthur?
ARTHUR:
Feeling the rock above my head. It seems to be humming.
FORD:
Humming?
ARTHUR:
Why should a rock hum?
FORD:
Perhaps it feels good about being a rock.
ARTHUR:
No. I mean it’s vibrating… as if it’s got an engine in it.
FORD:
You’re crazy. A rock with an engine in it?!
ARTHUR:
Who would want a motorised rock?
FORD:
Another motorised rock?
[The ‘rock’ splits open]
ARTHUR:
Look Ford, it’s cracking. … There’s a hatchway opening underneath it.
[The hatch continues opening]
FORD:
Wow, this is one strange rock!
ARTHUR:
Look at the light streaming out. Did you ever see anything like that before?
FORD:
Not when I’ve been in a legal state of mind.
ARTHUR:
Look! A figure silhouetted against the light. Coming down the ramp! Walking towards us.
FORD:
Staggering towards us!
ARTHUR:
It’s hard to see… so much light.
FORD:
He’s in a bad way.
ARTHUR:
He’s stumbling towards a crack in the ground! Look he’s going to fall!
FORD:
[Shouts] Look out!!
ZAPHOD:
Hey, uh, aaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!
FORD:
Zarquon! You know who I think that is?
ARTHUR:
The faces look familiar.
FORD:
Yeah.
ARTHUR:
It’s Zaphod! What’s he doing coming out of a rock?
FORD:
Well who says he needs a reason? Well come on, we’ve gotta help him.
ARTHUR:
[Shouts] Zaphod!!
ZAPHOD:
Hmmmm…
ARTHUR:
[Shouts] Zaphod! You seem to have fallen down a thirty-foot hole!!
FORD:
I think he knows that.
ARTHUR:
Is he all right?
FORD:
Well what does it look like? [Shouts] Zaphod!!
ZAPHOD:
Ngggh.
FORD:
[Shouts] Zaphod!! What happened to you?!
ZAPHOD:
My heads hurt…
FORD:
[Shouts] Can you tell me what happened?!
ZAPHOD:
They took me to the Frogstar.
FORD:
[Shouts] The Frogstar?!
ARTHUR:
What’s the Frogstar?
FORD:
Shhh!
ZAPHOD:
I’ve been in the Total Perspective Vortex.
FORD:
Oh no!
ZAPHOD:
Yeah.
ARTHUR:
What’ the Total -
FORD:
Quiet!
ZAPHOD:
Ford, I’m very ill.
FORD:
Well, if you’ve been in that thing…!
ZAPHOD:
Very ill. Very, very ill.
ARTHUR:
What’s the Vortex?
FORD:
The Vortex is the worst thing that can happen to anyone.
ZAPHOD:
Oh no, The Vortex was ok, but afterwards…
FORD:
[Shouts] Afterwards?! After the Vortex?!?
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] Yeah!! Well I had to celebrate didn’t I!? I’ve been drunk for a week! Ahh, my heads are killing me. Will you help me up?
[Humming sound]
EDDIE:
Hi there guys! This is Eddie your shipboard computer welcoming you back on board the starship Heart of Gold. We are currently heading away from the planet Earth on improbability drive, and all systems are just tickety-boo. [Sings] Here we are again! Happy as can be! All good friends and -
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, okay, okay, okay.
ZAPHOD:
Well guys, you must be so amazingly glad to see me you can’t even find words to tell me what a cool frood I am.
ARTHUR:
What a what?
ZAPHOD:
I know how you feel - I’m so great I get tongue-tied talking to myself. Hey! It’s good to see you Ford!
FORD:
Hey!
ZAPHOD:
…and, er, Monkey-Man.
ARTHUR:
Listen, I come from an ancient and distinguished race…
FORD:
…of hairdressers.
ARTHUR:
Thank you, Ford.
FORD:
Heyyy, Zaphod!
ZAPHOD:
Hey, Ford! Put it there!
FORD:
Hey!
[Clap]
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, and there!
FORD:
Hey!
[Clap]
ZAPHOD:
And there!
FORD:
Hey!
[Clap]
ZAPHOD:
And there!
FORD:
Ho!
[Clap]
ZAPHOD:
Woah!
FORD:
But look, how did you escape from the Haggunennon?
ZAPHOD:
Simple, I got lucky!
ARTHUR:
How did you get this ship back?
ZAPHOD:
I got lucky.
FORD:
But how did you find us?
ZAPHOD:
I got your towel.
ARTHUR:
What?
ZAPHOD:
Mailed by meteorite. Hey, that was a really neat trick! How did you do it?!
ARTHUR:
Do what?
ZAPHOD:
Get the towel fossilised, so when the planet blows up two-million years later, it gets hurled off into space and picked up by the Improbability Drive!
FORD:
Hey?
ZAPHOD:
How did you work it all out!?
ARTHUR:
We didn’t. I just dropped the towel.
ZAPHOD:
Ohhh. So you got lucky too! That’s cool. Hey man we are going to need a lot of luck where we are going next.
ARTHUR:
Where’s that?
ZAPHOD:
I’ll tell you when you’ve asked me what happened on the Frogstar.
ARTHUR:
What’s the Frogstar?
ZAPHOD:
I thought you’d never ask.
NARRATOR:
Many stories are told of Zaphod Beeblebrox’s journey to the Frogstar. Ten percent of them are ninety-five percent true, fourteen percent of them are sixty-five percent true, thirty-five percent of them are only five percent true, and all the rest of them are… told by Zaphod Beeblebrox. Only one wholly accurate account exists - and that is locked in a trunk in the attic of Zaphod’s favourite mother, Mrs. Alice Beeblebrox, of 108 Astral Cresent, Zoofroozelchester, Betelgeuse Five. Though countless people have tried cajolery, bribery, or threats to get hold of it, she has carefully guarded it from all eyes for many years. Waiting for what she calls… the right price. But one fairly well documented episode is referred to by Beeblebroxologists as the “Hey Roosta, I’ve Just Had This Really Hoopy Idea” incident.
Scene 4. Int. Megadodo Publications Offices
ZAPHOD:
Hey Roosta, I’ve just had this really hoopy idea. We’re in this wrecked building right?
ROOSTA:
Right.
ZAPHOD:
And the building’s in this really amazing force-bubble right?
ROOSTA:
Right.
ZAPHOD:
And the force-bubble’s flying through interstellar space right?
ROOSTA:
Right
ZAPHOD:
And there are seven Frogstar fighters towing us at about hyperspeed twelve to the Frogstar, right?
ROOSTA:
It had better be a good idea Beeblebrox.
ZAPHOD:
Oh, it’s a smash! You wanna hear it?
ROOSTA:
Ok.
ZAPHOD:
Let’s go to a discotheque.
ROOSTA:
Are you crazy?
ZAPHOD:
What’s the matter? Don’t you like discotheques? Look I’ve got this free invite some cat was giving out in the street. Here it is.
ROOSTA:
Ahhh! I’m with you Beeblebrox. You reckon we could slide this plastic invite into a door lock, breakout of the building, climb into one of the Frogstar fighters and then maybe overpower all the guards with this terrifying, small… plastic card.
ZAPHOD:
Look at the card will you?
ROOSTA:
“Wormhole disco. Loudest noise on Betelgeuse. Free body debit for one night only.” What’s a body debit?
ZAPHOD:
Oh you have been roughing it for too long Roosta. You missed out on progressive consumerism. Look, an old style credit card, you press the panel on the card, it makes an instant debit on your bank account and an instant credit to the shop’s account, right?
ROOSTA:
I prefer hard cash. If you can’t scratch a window with it I don’t accept it.
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, yeah, yeah, but get this: body debit means you press this card and it debits all your molecules from where you’re standing and your body goes into credit somewhere else!
ROOSTA:
In the disco!
ZAPHOD:
Right!
ROOSTA:
Escape!
ZAPHOD:
Yeah!
ROOSTA:
It’d better be a good disco.
ZAPHOD:
Listen, if it was a good disco they wouldn’t have to give away body debit cards. Right Roosta, we are going to grove our way out of here!
Scene 5. Int. Wormhole Disco
[Extraordinarily loud music]
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] We did it!!
ROOSTA:
[Shouts] What did you say?!
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] I said, we did it!!
ROOSTA:
[Shouts] What did you say?!
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] What?!
ROOSTA:
[Shouts] I said, what did you say?!
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] I can’t hear!!
ROOSTA:
[Shouts] What?!
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] What?!?
ROOSTA:
[Shouts] What?!?
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] What?!?
VARIOUS DANCERS:
Hi there baby! Want to dance?
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] No! Do I look like I want to dance?!
DANCER:
You look like it to me.
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] I must’ve got my wrong body on!!
DANCER:
Suit yourself then.
VARIOUS DANCERS:
Hi there baby, you want to dance?
ROOSTA:
[Shouts] Beeblebrox!! All these dancers! They’re robots!!
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] They’re just to make the place look crowded!! Give it some atmosphere!!
ROOSTA:
[Shouts] But there aren’t any real people here at all!!
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] So what’s new?!
[Spraying noise]
ROOSTA:
[Shouts] Yeurgh!!
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] What’s up?!
[Spraying noise]
ROOSTA:
[Shouts] I just walked past this nozzle in the wall!! It’s spraying the smell of hot sweat over everything!!
[Spraying noise]
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] Yee-ew!! Yeah!! Okay!! Let’s get out of here!! Can you see a door?!
ROOSTA:
[Shouts] Yeah! It’s right in the far corner!!
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] Let’s go!
VARIOUS DANCERS:
You cannot go you must have a good time. You must have a good time. You must have a good time. Must have a good time. You must have a good time…
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] I’m trying to have a good time!! I’m trying to go!!!
VARIOUS DANCERS:
Turn up the music. Turn up the music. Turn up the music. Turn up the music…
[The music becomes even louder]
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] Waghhhhhhh!
VARIOUS DANCERS:
You must have a good time. You must have a good time. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance. Dance…
DANCER:
They are passing out, spray them with adrenaline.
[Spraying noise]
ZAPHOD:
No, no, no, no
ROOSTA:
No, no, no, no
VARIOUS DANCERS:
Make the lights flash faster. Make the lights flash faster. Flash faster. Flash faster. Flash faster…
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts] Let’s go!!
[Sound of dematerialisation]
VARIOUS DANCERS:
Make the lights flash faster. Make the lights flash fast -
[The loud music dies]
DANCER ONE:
Organic life-forms have no sense of fun.
DANCER TWO:
Hmm.
Scene 6. Ext. Frogstar
ZAPHOD:
That must be the worst good time I ever had. Still we’re free.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Ah! There you are! Splendid!
ZAPHOD:
You! Hey man, how did you get to be here?
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Me? I came the simple way: down the stairs.
ZAPHOD:
Down the stairs!? To Ursa Minor?! Hey you must be unbelievably fit.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Ah, I’m afraid you’re not on Ursa Minor. We didn’t let you out of the building. This has all been a little in-flight entertainment.
ZAPHOD:
You call that entertainment?
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Not for you, for me! [Laughs] Well I’m afraid I must leave you now.
ZAPHOD:
Awh, and just when I was really getting to dislike you.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
I feel very privileged to have been able to bring a little unnecessary unpleasantness into your life, Mister Beeblebrox, sir.
ZAPHOD:
Fine.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Oh, I wonder if you’d like to sign an autograph for me?
ZAPHOD:
An Autograph!? You must be several light-years out of your skull baby!
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Look, I have a photo of you here; if you could just see your way to -
ZAPHOD:
Ah, Come on! Go suck a neutron star will you!
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Oh, please, have a look at this.
ZAPHOD:
Hey, hey-hey-hey-hey. That’s quite a nice picture.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Yes.
ZAPHOD:
Let’s.... here… yeah… okay… okay… er… hmm… with… er… deep… anger and resentment… Zaphod… Beeblebrox. Okay?
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Thank you. It’s not for my daughter you understand, it’s for me. I have to put it in the Frogstar record office, attached to a statement saying that you went into the Vortex of your own free will.
ZAPHOD:
Baby, I think there’s some problem with your respiration.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Oh? What?
ZAPHOD:
You’re breathing.
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Oh, that’s not a problem.
ZAPHOD:
It is from where I’m standing. Here, let me tie a knot in your neck!
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Guahhhh! If you try an’ strangle me Beeblebrox you’ll regret it!
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, yeah, yeah! Not half as much as you will!
FROGSTAR PRISON RELATIONS OFFICER:
Well don’t say I didn’t warn yoooooooouuu!
[He dematerialises]
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, ahh! Roosta, did ya see that? The guy vanished whilst I had my hands ‘round his neck! Aw-ooh! I think I’ve broken my thumb on my other thumb. Roosta? Roosta! Where are you?
GARGRAVARR:
Beeblebrox. You are on your own now. You have arrived on the Frogstar.
BR>[There is an echo effect inside the Frogstar]
ZAPHOD:
Hey, what? Who are you?
GARGRAVARR:
I am Gargravarr. I am the custodian of the Total Perspective Vortex.
ZAPHOD:
Oh. er, hi.
GARGRAVARR:
Hello
ZAPHOD:
Hey, uh, why can’t I see you? Why aren’t you here?
GARGRAVARR:
I am here.
GARGRAVARR:
At least my mind is. My body wanted to come but it’s a bit busy at the moment; things to do, people to see, you know how it is with bodies.
ZAPHOD:
I thought I did.
GARGRAVARR:
I hope it’s gone in for surgery. The way it’s been living recently it must be on its last elbows.
ZAPHOD:
Elbows? You mean its last legs.
GARGRAVARR:
I know what I mean.
ZAPHOD:
Hey, wild.
GARGRAVARR:
So you’re to be put into the Vortex yes?
ZAPHOD:
Oh, well, er, this cat’s in no hurry you know. I can just slouch about, taking a look at the local scenery.
GARGRAVARR:
Have you seen the local scenery?
ZAPHOD:
Er, no.
[A howl sounds in the distance]
ZAPHOD:
Ah. Ok. Well I’ll just slouch about then.
GARGRAVARR:
No. The Vortex is ready for you now. You must come. Follow me.
ZAPHOD:
Er, yeah. How am I meant to do that?
GARGRAVARR:
I’ll hum for you. [He hums] Just follow behind. [He hums some more]
ZAPHOD:
Okay. Anything for a weird life.
NARRATOR:
The Universe, as has been observed before, is an unsettling big place. The fact which, for the sake of a quiet life, most people tend to ignore. Many would happily move to somewhere rather smaller of their own devising, and this is what most beings, in fact, do. For instance, in one corner of the Eastern Galactic Arm lies the great forest planet Oglaroon. The entire ‘intelligent’ population of which lives permanently in one fairly small and crowded nut tree. In which tree they’re born, live, fall in love, carve tiny, speculative articles in the bark on the meaning of life, the futility of death, and the importance of birth control, fight a few - very minor - wars, and eventually die strapped to the underside of some of the less accessible outer branches. In fact, the only Oglaroonians who ever leave their tree at all are those who are hurled out for the heinous crime of wondering whether any of the other trees might be capable of supporting life at all, or indeed be anything other than illusions brought on by eating too many Oglanuts. Exotic though this behaviour may seem, there is no life-form in the galaxy not in some way guilty of the same thing. Which is why the Total Perspective Vortex is as horrific as it undoubtedly is. For when you are put in the Vortex, you are given just one, momentary glimpse of the size of the entire unimaginable infinity of creation along with a tiny little marker saying, “You are here”.
Scene 7. Int. Frogstar
GARGRAVARR:
[Humming]
MAN:
[Blood-curdling scream]
ZAPHOD:
Hey man, what was that?
GARGRAVARR:
A man being put in the Vortex I’m afraid. We’re very close to it now.
ZAPHOD:
Hey, it sounds really bad. Couldn’t we maybe go to a party or something, for a while… think it over?
GARGRAVARR:
For all I know I’m probably at one. My body that is. He goes to a lot of parties without me… says I only get in the way. Hey ho
ZAPHOD:
I can see why it wouldn’t want to come here. This place is the dismalest. Looks like a bomb’s hit it you know.
GARGRAVARR:
Several have - it’s a very unpopular place. The Vortex is in the heaviest steel bunker ahead of you.
MAN:
[Blood-curdling scream]
ZAPHOD:
The universe does that to a guy?
GARGRAVARR:
The whole infinite Universe. The Infinite sums. The Infinite distances between them, and yourself. An invisible dot on an invisible dot. Infinitely small.
[An echo reiterates “small”]
ZAPHOD:
Hey I’m Zaphod Beeblebrox man! You know?
GARGRAVARR:
That is precisely the point.
[A door opens]
GARGRAVARR:
Enter.
ZAPHOD:
Hey. What, now?
GARGRAVARR:
Now.
[Zaphod walks across to look inside]
ZAPHOD:
It doesn’t look like any kind of a Vortex to me.
GARGRAVARR:
It isn’t. It’s just the lift. Enter.
[The lift doors close and it begins its journey]
ZAPHOD:
I’ve got to get myself in the right frame of mind.
GARGRAVARR:
There is no right frame of mind.
ZAPHOD:
You really know how to make a guy feel inadequate
GARGRAVARR:
I don’t, the Vortex does.
[The lift arrives and its door opens]
GARGRAVARR:
There. The Vortex. The Total Perspective Vortex. [Dramatic voice] Enter, Beeblebrox! Enter the Vortex!
ZAPHOD:
Okay, okay.
[The Vortex starts up]
NARRATOR:
The Vortex derives its picture of the whole universe on the principle of extrapolated matter analyses. To explain - since every piece of matter in the universe is in someway affected by every other piece of matter in the universe, it is, in theory, possible to extrapolate the whole of creation - every galaxy, every sun, every planet, their orbits, their composition, and their economic and social history, from, say - one small piece of fairy cake. The man who invented the Total Perspective Vortex did so, basically, in order to annoy his wife. Trin Tragula, for that was his name, was a dreamer, a speculative thinker, or, as his wife would have it, an idiot. And she would nag him incessantly about the utterly inordinate amount of time he would spend staring out into space, or mulling over the mechanics of safety pins, or doing spectrographic analyses of pieces of fairy cake. “Have some sense of proportion,” she would say, thirty-eight times a day. And so he built the Total Perspective Vortex - just to show her. And in one end he plugged the whole of reality, as extrapolated from a fairy cake, and in the other end he plugged his wife - so that when he turned it on she saw in one instant the whole infinity of creation and herself in relation to it. To Trin Tragula’s horror, the shock annihilated her brain. But to his satisfaction, he realised he had conclusively proved that if life is going to exist in a universe this size, the one thing it cannot afford to have, is a sense of proportion. And it is into this Vortex that Zaphod Beeblebrox has been put, and from which, a few seconds later, he emerges.
Scene 8. Int. Frogstar
[The Vortex door opens]
ZAPHOD:
Hi.
GARGRAVARR:
Beeblebrox! You’re…!
ZAPHOD:
Fine, fine. Could I have a drink please?
GARGRAVARR:
You’ve been in the Vortex?!
ZAPHOD:
You saw me kid.
GARGRAVARR:
And you saw the whole infinity of creation?!
ZAPHOD:
The lot baby - it’s a real neat place you know, heh-heh.
GARGRAVARR:
And you saw yourself in relation to it all?!
ZAPHOD:
Yah, yeah, yeah.
GARGRAVARR:
And what did you experience?!
ZAPHOD:
It just told me what I knew all the time: I’m a really great guy! Didn’t I tell ya baby, I am Zaphod Beeblebrox!!
NARRATOR:
Is it really true that Zaphod Beeblebrox’s ego is as large as the universe? Does this actually have any bearing on anything else in the story, or, indeed, on anything else at all? Has everyone totally forgotten about the increasingly mysterious Zarniwoop, last heard of taking an intergalactic cruise in his office? Is it worth hanging on to find out the answers to these exasperating questions? Find out in the next, unedifying episode of ’The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’.
GARGRAVARR:
In that episode of ’The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’, Peter Jones was The Book. Simon Jones was Arthur Dent; Geoffrey McGivern was Ford Prefect; Mark Wing-Davey was Zaphod Beeblebrox; Alan Ford was Roosta; David Tate was Eddie and the Frogstar Prison Relation Officer; and Valentine Dyall was Gargravarr. Radio-Phonic sound and music was by Paddy Kingsland of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop. The program was written by Douglas Adams and produced by Geoffrey Perkins. Information about package Holidays on the Frogstar can be found in the leaflet, ‘Sun, Sand, and Suffering on the Most Totally Evil Place in the Galaxy’.
Scene 9. Int. Frogstar
ZAPHOD:
Hey man, is that a piece of fairy cake? My stomach’s just completely out to lunch. Mmmm. Yeah. Mmm…
21 Ekim 2010 Perşembe
14 Ekim 2010 Perşembe
Bölüm 3 - 14 Ekim 2010
Fit the Fifth
NARRATOR:
The story so far: in the beginning the universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move. Many races believe that it was created by some sort of god, though the Jatravartid people of Viltvodle Six firmly believe that the entire Universe was, in fact, sneezed out of the nose of a being called the Great Green Arkleseizure. The Jatravartids, who live in perpetual fear of the time they call ‘The Coming of the Great White Handkerchief’, are small, blue creatures with more than fifty arms each, who are therefore unique in being the only race in history to have invented the aerosol deodorant before the wheel. However, the Great Green Arkleseizure theory was not widely accepted outside Viltvodle Six. And so, one day, a race of hyper-intelligent pan-dimensional beings built themselves a gigantic supercomputer called Deep Thought, to calculate once and for all the answer to the Ultimate question of Life, the Universe, and Everything. For seven-and-a-half million years Deep Thought computed and calculated and eventually announced that the answer was in fact, “Forty-Two”. And so another, even bigger computer had to be built to find out what the actual question was. And this computer, which was called the Earth, was so large that it was frequently mistaken for a planet - particularly by the strange ape-like beings who roamed its surface, totally unaware that they were simply part of a gigantic computer program. And this is very odd, because without that fairly simple and obvious piece of knowledge, nothing that ever happened on Earth could possibly make the slightest bit of sense. However, at the critical moment of readout, the Earth was unexpectedly demolished to make way for a new hyperspace bypass, and the only hope of finding the Ultimate question now lies buried deep in the minds of Arthur Dent and Trillian, the only native Earth people to have survived the demolition. Unfortunately, they and their strange companions from Betelgeuse are at the moment being shot at, behind a computer bank on the lost planet of Magrathea. This is what the computer bank is about to do:
[Huge explosion]
NARRATOR:
And the time at which it is going to do it is twenty seconds from now.
Scene 1. Int. Computer Area. Magrathea
[Lots of Kill-O-Zap weapons fire]
FORD:
The computer bank is absorbing a hell of a lot of energy!
[As the Kill-O-Zap gunfire continues, a buzzing sound begins to build as the computer bank begins to heat up]
FORD:
I think it’s about to blow.
ARTHUR:
It’s a shame we never got the work done revising the book. I think it looked rather promising.
ZAPHOD:
Yeah… what book?
ARTHUR:
’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’.
ZAPHOD:
Oh, that thing!
FORD:
Look I hate to say this lads, but this thing really is going to blow up!
ZAPHOD:
Ok, ookay.
[Huge explosion… silence… soft dinner music fades up into]
Scene 2. Int. Milliway's
TRILLIAN:
My head.
GARKBIT:
Good evening gentlemen. Madam.
ZAPHOD:
Er...
GARKBIT:
Have you a reservation?
FORD:
Reservation?
TRILLIAN:
So this is the afterlife.
GARKBIT:
Yes sir
FORD:
You need a reservation for the afterlife?
GARKBIT:
Afterlife, sir?
ARTHUR:
This is the afterlife?
FORD:
Well, I assume so, I mean there’s no way we could have survived that blast, is there?
ARTHUR:
No.
TRILLIAN:
None at all.
ZAPHOD:
I certainly didn’t survive, I was a total goner.
ARTHUR:
I was dead too.
ZAPHOD:
Wham, bang, and that was it.
FORD:
I mean we didn’t stand a chance, we must have been blown to bits… arms, legs everywhere. xxx
ZAPHOD:
Yeah!
ARTHUR:
Yeah!
TRILLIAN:
Yeah!
FORD:
Yeah.
GARKBIT:
If you would care to order drinks…
ZAPHOD:
Kerpow! Splat! Er…
GARKBIT:
Sir?
ZAPHOD:
And here we are…
TRILLIAN:
Yeah.
ZAPHOD:
…lying dead…
TRILLIAN:
Standing.
ZAPHOD:
Er, standing dead, in this, er, desolate…
ARTHUR:
Restaurant.
ZAPHOD:
Standing dead in this…
ARTHUR:
…Five Star…
ZAPHOD:
…restaurant.
FORD:
Bit odd, isn’t it?
ZAPHOD:
Er, yeah.
TRILLIAN:
Nice chandeliers though.
ARTHUR:
It’s not so much an afterlife, more a sort of après-vie.
ZAPHOD:
Hey hang about. I think we’re missing something important here, something that somebody just said.
TRILLIAN:
About the chandeliers?
ZAPHOD:
No, something really important. Hey, hey, hey, er, you.
GARKBIT:
Sir.?
ZAPHOD:
Did you say something about… drinks?
GARKBIT:
Certainly sir. If the lady or the gentlemen would care to take drinks before dinner.
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, great!
TRILLIAN:
Yeah
FORD:
Ta-haa!
GARKBIT:
And the universe will explode later, for your pleasure.
ZAPHOD:
Hey what?
FORD:
Wow! What sort of drinks do you serve here?
GARKBIT:
I think sir has perhaps misunderstood me.
FORD:
Oh I hope not.
GARKBIT:
It is not unusual for our customers to be a little disorientated by the time journey. So if -
FORD, ZAPHOD and TRILLIAN:
Time journey?!
ARTHUR:
You mean this isn’t the afterlife?
GARKBIT:
Afterlife sir? No, sir.
ARTHUR:
And we’re not dead?
GARKBIT:
Ha. No sir. Sir is most evidently alive. Otherwise I would not attempt to serve sir.
FORD:
Then where the photon are we?
ZAPHOD:
Hey! heyy, heyyy, hey, heyyy! I’ve sussed it!
ARTHUR:
What?
FORD:
What?
TRILLIAN:
What?
ZAPHOD:
This must be Milliway's!
TRILLIAN, FORD and ARTHUR:
Milliway's?
GARKBIT:
YesMilliway's. The Restaurant at the End of the Universe.
ARTHUR:
End of what?
GARKBIT:
The universe.
ARTHUR:
When did that end?
GARKBIT:
In just a few minutes sir. Now if you would care to order drinks, I’ll show you to your table.
NARRATOR:
The Restaurant at the End of the Universe is one of the most extraordinary ventures in the entire history of catering. A vast time bubble has been projected into the future to the precise moment of the end of the universe. This is, of course, impossible. In it, guests take their places at table and eat sumptuous meals whilst watching the whole of creation explode about them. This is, of course, impossible. You can arrive for any sitting you like without prior reservation because you can book retrospectively as it were, when you return to your own time. This is, of course, impossible. At the restaurant you can meet and dine with a fascinating cross-section of the entire population of space and time. This is, of course, impossible. You can visit it as many times as you like and be sure of never meeting yourself because of the embarrassment that usually causes. This is, of course, impossible. All you have to do is deposit one penny in a savings account in your own era and when you arrive at the end of time, the operation of compound interest means that the fabulous cost of your meal has been paid for. This is, of course, impossible. Which is why the advertising executives of the star system of Bastablon came up with this slogan:
“If you’ve done six impossible things this morning, why not round it off with breakfast at Milliway's - the Restaurant at the End of the Universe!”
Scene 3. Int. Milliway's
[Applause]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Ladies and gentlemen… Ladies and gentlemen, friends… Welcome to the Restaurant at the End of the Universe. I am your host for tonight, Max Quordlepleen and I’ve just come straight from the very, very, very other end of time, where I’ve been hosting a show at The Big Bang Burger Chef, where we had a real wa-a-hey of an evening ladies and gentlemen, you know what I mean! And I will be with you throughout this tremendous historic occasion, the end of history itself. I just want you to think about that ladies and gentlemen, friends, thank you…
[Applause]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Ta-hah, well - er, nhank you, thank you. Ladies and gentlemen take your places at table, the candles are lit the band is playing and - what ma’am? Uh, yes, its, uh down the corridor, the second door on your right. And as the force shielded dome above us fades into transparency revealing a dark and sullen sky, hung heavy with the ancient light of livid swollen stars I - it’s on the right. I can see, friends, we’re in for a fabulous evening’s apocalypse! Thank you very much.
[Applause]
ARTHUR:
But look Ford, surely if the universe is about to end here and now, don’t we go with it?
FORD:
Ah, no, no, no, look, I mean, as soon as you come into this dive I think you get held in this sort of amazing force-shielded temporal warp thing.
ARTHUR:
Hmm?
FORD:
Look, look, I’ll show you…Now imagine this napkin, right? …as the temporal universe, right? And, and this spoon as a transductional mode in matter curve.
ARTHUR:
That’s the spoon I was eating with!
FORD:
Oh alright, imagine, imagine this spoon as the, as the transductional mode in the matter curve - no, no, better still, this fork -
ZAPHOD:
Hey could you let go of my fork please?
FORD:
Well, look, look, Look, why don’t we say this wine glass is the temporal universe so if I sort of…
[He demonstrates, but loses his grip and the glass smashes to the floor]
FORD:
Yeah, well, Forget that. I mean do you know how the universe began for a kick off?
ARTHUR:
Well probably not
FORD:
Alright imagine this: you get a large round bath made of ebony.
ARTHUR:
Where from? Harrod’s was destroyed by the Vogons.
FORD:
Well it doesn’t matter -
ARTHUR:
So you keep saying!
FORD:
No, No listen. Just imagine that you’ve got this ebony bath, right? And it’s conical.
ARTHUR:
Conical? What kind of bath is -
FORD:
No, no, shh, shhh, it’s, it’s, it’s conical okay? So what you do, you fill it with fine white sand right? Or sugar, or anything like that. And when it’s full, you pull the plug out and it all just twirls down out of the plug hole… but the thing is…
ARTHUR:
Why?
FORD:
No, the clever thing is that you film it happening. You get a movie camera from somewhere and actually film it. But then you thread the film in the projector backwards.
ARTHUR:
Backwards?
FORD:
Yeah, neat you see. So what happens is you sit and you watch it and then everything appears to swirl upwards, out of the plug hole and fill the bath… amazing.
ARTHUR:
And that’s how the universe began?
FORD:
No. But it’s a marvellous way to relax.
TRILLIAN:
Funny man.
FORD:
Well it broke the ice didn’t it?
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
[Blows into microphone]> And as the photon storms gather in the swirling clouds around us, preparing to tear apart the last of the red hot, hot suns, I hope you’ll all settle back and enjoy with me what I am sure we will all find an immensely exciting and terminal experience. Believe me ladies and gentleman, there’s nothing penultimate about this one you know what I mean! Ha! This ladies and gentleman is the proverbial it.
[Applause]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Now Thank you. And after this there is void. Absolute nothing… except, of course, for the sweet trolley and our fine selection of Aldebaran liqueurs. And now, at the risk of putting a damper on the wonderful sense of doom and futility here, well I’d like to welcome a few parties. Now, do we have a party here, do we have a party here from the Zansellquasure Flamarion Bridge Club from beyond the Vortvoid of Qvarne? Are they here?
[Cheers]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Yes… ah……Oh that’s wonderful, waving their qvarne streamers in the air. Good! Jolly Good! And a party of minor deities from the Halls of Asgard?
[Cheers, applause, and the sound of thunderbolts]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
hen-heh… Ouch! That hurt. Still we’re all friends at the end of the universe. Now, do we have here a party of young conservatives from Sirius B?
[Barking, growling, and howling]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Hmmm… Yes, yes we do… And lastly, a party of devout believers from the Church of the Second Coming of the Great Prophet Zarquon? Well fellas, lets hope he’s hurrying because he’s only got eight minutes left! Ta-hinh-ha!
[Laughter]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Ha…No, seriously though, no seriously, no, please, please. I mean no offence meant because I know, we shouldn’t make fun of, deeply held beliefs. So I think, a big hand please, for the Great Prophet Zarquon…. where ever he’s got to.
[Laughter and applause]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Okay Thank you, thank you. I just want to say how marvellous it is to see how many of you come here time and time again…
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
As the final death-throws…
GARKBIT:
Uh, excuse me sir.
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
…of nature begin…
ZAPHOD:
Who me?
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
…their…
GARKBIT:
Mister Zaphod Beeblebrox?
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
…In just a few moments…
ZAPHOD:
Uh, yeah.
GARKBIT:
There’s a phone call for you.
ZAPHOD:
Hey what?
TRILLIAN:
Here?
ZAPHOD:
Hey-uh-heyy, but wh-who knows where I am?
TRILLIAN:
Zaphod! Perhaps it’s the police! Could they have traced us here?
ZAPHOD:
You mean they want to arrest me over the phone? Could be, I’m a pretty dangerous dude when I’m cornered.
FORD:
Oh yeah, you go to pieces so fast that people get hit by the shrapnel.
[Laugher from crowd in background]
GARKBIT:
I am not personally acquainted with the metal gentleman in question, sir -
TRILLIAN:
Metal?
GARKBIT:
…but I’m informed that he has been awaiting your return for a considerable number of millennia. It seems you left here somewhat precipitously.
ZAPHOD:
Hey, “left here”? We’ve only just arrived.
GARKBIT:
Indeed sir. But before you arrived here sir, you left here.
ZAPHOD:
You’re saying that before we arrived here, we left here?
GARKBIT:
That is what I said sir.
ZAPHOD:
Put your analyst on danger money baby, now.
FORD:
No, no, no, no, wait a minute. Where exactly is here?
GARKBIT:
The planet Magrathea sir.
FORD:
But we just left there! This is The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, I thought.
GARKBIT:
Precisely sir. The one was constructed on the ruins of the other.
ARTHUR:
Ahhh! You mean we’ve travelled in time, but not in space!
ZAPHOD:
Listen you semi-evolved simian, go climb a tree, won’t you!
ARTHUR:
Oh go and bang your heads together, four eyes!
GARKBIT:
No, no, your monkey has got it right sir.
ARTHUR:
Who are you calling a monkey?!
GARKBIT:
You jumped forward in time many millions of years, while retaining the same position in space. Your friend has been waiting for you in the mean time.
FORD:
Well what’s he been doing all the time?
GARKBIT:
Rusting a little sir.
TRILLIAN:
Marvin! It must be Marvin!
FORD:
The paranoid android!
ZAPHOD:
Space cookies! Oh, hand me the rap-rod, plate captain!
GARKBIT:
Pardon sir?
ZAPHOD:
Pass the phone, waiter. Gee you guys are so un-hip it’s a wonder your bums don’t fall off.
GARKBIT:
Our what sir?
[The telephone is set on the table]
GARKBIT:
The phone sir.
ZAPHOD:
Marvin! Hi, how you doing kid?
MARVIN:
[On telephone] I think you ought to know I’m feeling very depressed.
ZAPHOD:
Hey, yeah? We’re having a great time: food, wine, a little personal abuse, and the universe going foom. Where can we find you?
MARVIN:
[On telephone] You don’t have to pretend to be interested in me you know. I know perfectly well I’m only a menial robot -
ZAPHOD:
yeah, okay, okay, but, uh, where are you?
MARVIN:
[On telephone] “Reverse primary thrust, Marvin”, that’s all they say to me. “Open airlock number three, Marvin.” “Marvin, can you pick up that piece of paper?” Can I pick up that piece of paper! Here I am, brain the size of a planet…
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, yeah, uh
MARVIN:
[On telephone] ’m quite used to be humiliated. I can even go stick my head in a bucket of water if you’d like.
ZAPHOD:
yeah, uh Marvin?
MARVIN:
[On telephone] Would you like me to go and stick my head in a bucket of water? I’ve got one ready. Wait a minute.
FORD:
What’s he saying, Zaphod?
ZAPHOD:
Oh, nothing.
[Audible over the telephone is the sound of Marvin sticking his head in a bucket of water]
ZAPHOD:
He just phoned up to wash his head at us.
MARVIN:
[On telephone] Has that satisfied you?
ZAPHOD:
Will you please tell us where you are!
MARVIN:
[On telephone] I’m in the car park.
ZAPHOD:
In the car park!? What are you doing there?
MARVIN:
[On telephone] Parking cars what else do you do in the car park?
ZAPHOD:
well, yeah, yeah, okay. Stay there. [He hangs up the telephone] C’mon guys let’s go. Marvin’s down in the car park.
ARTHUR:
The car park? What’s he doing in the car park?
ZAPHOD:
Parking cars. What else dum-dum? Hey Ford, C’mon Trillion, let’s move.
ARTHUR:
What about my Pears Galumbit?
[They head downstairs into the car park]
TRILLIAN:
There he is! Marvin!
ZAPHOD:
Marvin! Hey kid, are we pleased to see you.
MARVIN:
No you’re not, no one ever is.
ZAPHOD:
Suit yourself.
TRILLIAN:
No really Marvin, we are
ARTHUR:
Quite.
TRILLIAN:
Hanging, around waiting for us all this time!
MARVIN:
The first ten-million years were the worst. And the second ten-million - they were the worst too… The third ten-million, I didn’t enjoy at all. After that I went into a bit of a decline.
FORD:
Hey Zaphod, come and have a look at some of these neat star trolleys! Look at this baby, Zaphod. The tangerine star buggy with black sunbusters…
ZAPHOD:
Hey get this number! Multi-cluster quark drive, perspulex running-boards. This has got to be a Lazlar LyriKon Kustom job. Look! The infra-pink lizard emblem on the neutrino cowling.
FORD:
Oh yes! And I was passed by one of these mothers once out near the Axel Nebula. I was going flat out and this thing just strolled past me, star drive hardly ticking over, just incredible!
ZAPHOD:
Too much.
FORD:
Ten seconds later it smashed straight into the third moon of Jaglan Beta.
ZAPHOD:
Hey right?
FORD:
Yeah! But a great looking ship though. Looks like a fish, moves like a fish, steers like a cow.
ZAPHOD:
No kidding!
FORD:
No. Oh, wait a minute, wait a minute! That one there.
ZAPHOD:
Hey-yeah! Now that is really bad for the eyes!
FORD:
I mean it’s so black! You can hardly even make out its shape. Light just falls into it.
ZAPHOD:
And feel this surface.
FORD:
Yeah! … Hey, hey you can’t!
ZAPHOD:
See? It’s totally frictionless. Oh this must be one mother of a mover. I bet even the cigar lighter’s on photon drive, well whadda ya reckon Ford?
FORD:
What? You mean… stroll off with it? Do you think we should?
ZAPHOD:
No. Let’s do it.
FORD:
Okay.
ZAPHOD:
We better shift soon, in a few seconds the universe will end and all the captain creeps will be pouring down here to find their bourge-mobiles
FORD:
Zaphod.
ZAPHOD:
Yeah?
FORD:
How do we get into it?
ZAPHOD:
Just don’t spoil a beautiful idea will you Ford!?
FORD:
Perhaps the robot can figure something out.
ZAPHOD:
Yeah. Hey Marvin! Come on over we’ve got a job for you!
MARVIN:
I won’t enjoy it.
ZAPHOD:
Oh yes you will, there’s a whole new life stretching out in front of you!
MARVIN:
Oh, not another one.
ZAPHOD:
Will you shut up and listen? This time there’s gonna be excitement, and adventure, and really wild things!
MARVIN:
Sounds awful.
ZAPHOD:
Marvin! All I’m trying to say is -
MARVIN:
I suppose you want me to open this spaceship for you.
ZAPHOD:
Marvin! Just listen will you! What?
MARVIN:
I suppose you want me to open this spaceship for you.
ZAPHOD:
Oh, er, yeah, yeah, yeah, that… er… that’d be… er…
MARVIN:
Well I wish you’d just tell me rather than try an’ engage my enthusiasm because I haven’t got one.
[Spaceship door opens]
FORD:
Hey, how’d ya do that, Marvin?
MARVIN:
Didn’t I tell you? I’ve got a brain the size of the planet. No one ever listens to me of course.
ZAPHOD:
Shut up Marvin.
MARVIN:
See what I mean?
FORD:
Hey, Zaphod look at this! Look at the interior of this ship!
ZAPHOD:
Hey, weird!
FORD:
I mean it’s black, everything in it is just totally black!
Scene 4. Int. Milliway's
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
And now ladies and gentleman, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.
[Soft drum roll]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
The skies begin to boil.
[Louder drum roll]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Nature collapses into the screaming void.
[Louder drum roll]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
In five seconds time, the Universe itself will be… at an end.
[Drum roll]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
See friends, see! Where the light of infinity bursts in upon us!
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah!
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Hunh?
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah!
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
What?… What’s happening here?
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah! Halll-e-lu-yah! Halll-e-lu-yah!
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Who’s this?
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah!
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
I don’t believe it!
[Applause]
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah!
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
A big hand please, for the Great Prophet Zarquon.
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah! Halll-e-lu-yah!
ZARQUON:
Hello everybody.
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah! Halll-e-lu-yah!
ZARQUON:
Sorry I’m a bit late, had a terrible time… All sort of things cropping up at the last moment. How are we for time? Umm -
[The universe explodes]
NARRATOR:
And so the universe ended. One of the major selling points of that wholly remarkable book, The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - apart from its relative cheapness and the fact that has the words “Don’t Panic” written in large, friendly letters on the cover - is its compendious and occasionally accurate, glossary. For instance, the statistics relating to the geo-social nature of the universe are all deftly set out between pages 576,324 and 576,326. The simplistic style is partly explained by the fact that its editors, having to meet a publishing deadline, copied the information off the back of a packet of breakfast cereal, hastily embroidering it with a few foot notes in order to avoid prosecution under the incomprehensibly torturous Galactic Copyright Laws. It’s interesting to note that a later and wilier editor sent the book backwards in time, through a temporal warp, and then successfully sued the breakfast cereal company for infringement of the same laws. Here is a sample in both Headings and footnotes.
The universe. Some information to help you live in it.
One: ‘Area’. Infinite. As far as anyone can make out
Two: ’Imports’. None. It’s impossible to import things into an infinite area, there being no outside to import things in from.
Three: ‘Exports’. None. See ’Imports’.
Four: ‘Rainfall’. None. Rain can not fall because in an infinite space there is no up for it to fall down from.
Five: ‘Population’. None. It is known that there are an infinite number of worlds, but that not everyone is inhabited. Therefore, there must be a finite number of inhabited worlds. Any finite number divided by infinity is as near to nothing as makes no odds. So, if every planet in the universe has a population of zero, then the entire population of the universe must also be zero, and any people you may actually meet from time to time are merely the products of a deranged imagination.
Six: ‘Monetary Units’. None. In fact, there are three freely convertible currencies in the universe, but the Altairian Dollar has recently collapsed, the Flainian Pobble Bead is only exchangeable for other Flainian Pobble Beads, and the Triganic Pu doesn’t really count as money. It’s exchange rate of six Ningis to one Pu is simple, but since a Ningi is a triangular rubber coin six-thousand, eight-hundred miles long each side, no one has ever collected enough to own one Pu. Niginis are not negotiable currency because the Galactic Banks refuse to deal in fiddling small change. From this Basic premise it’s very simple to prove that the Galactic Banks are also the products of a deranged imagination.
Seven. ‘Sex’. None. Well - actually, there is an awful lot of this. Largely because of the total lack of money, trade, banks, rainfall, or anything else that might keep all the nonexistent people in the universe occupied. However, it’s not worth embarking on a long discussion of it now, because it really is, terribly complicated. For further information See Chapters Seven, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Fourteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Nineteen, Twenty-One to Eighty-Four inclusive, and… most of the rest of the book. It’s largely, on the account of passages like this, that the book of The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ is being revised by Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent. Unfortunately, they are being presented with too many distractions to be able to settle down to doing any solid research. Not only does Arthur Dent still have to find the Question to the Ultimate Answer of Life, the Universe, and Everything, but the newly-stolen spaceship is currently behaving rather like this:
Scene 5. Int. Spaceship
[The sound of a spaceship in trouble. Under the noise we hear our heroes]
ARTHUR:
Basically what you’re trying to say is that you can’t control it.
FORD:
I’m not trying to say that, the whole bloody ship is!
ZAPHOD:
It’s the wild colour scheme that freaks me. I mean, when you try an’ operate one of these weird black controls which are labelled in black on a black background, a small black light lights up black to tell you you’ve done it. What is this? Some kind of intergalactic hyper-hearse?
TRILLIAN:
Well perhaps it is.
ARTHUR:
Isn’t there anyway you can control it? You’re making me feel space sick.
FORD:
Time sick. We’re plummeting backwards through time.
ARTHUR:
Oh god! Now I think I really am going to be ill.
ZAPHOD:
Go ahead, we could do with a little colour around the place.
TRILLIAN:
Oh for god’s sake Zaphod! Go easy will you? Already today we’ve had to sit through the end of the universe, and before that we were blasted five-hundred-and-seventy-six-thousand years through time by an exploding computer.
MARVIN:
It’s alright for you, I had to go the long way ‘round.
ARTHUR:
How did that happen anyway? How does an exploding computer push you through time?
MARVIN:
Very simple. It wasn’t a computer it was a hyper-spatial field generator.
ARTHUR:
Silly, I should have recognised it at once.
MARVIN:
As it overheated it blew a hole through the space-time continuum and you dropped through like a stone through a wet paper bag…. I hate wet paper bags.
TRILLIAN:
Hey, that sounds better! Have you managed to make some sense of the controls?
FORD:
No, we just stopped fiddling with them. I think this ship has a far better idea of where it’s going than we do.
ARTHUR:
Well that sounds quite sensible to me.
ZAPHOD:
What do you know about it ape-man?
ARTHUR:
Well Look! If whoever owns this ship travelled forward in time to The Restaurant at the End of the Universe then presumably he must have programmed the ship in advance to return him to the exact point he originally left. Doesn’t that make sense?
FORD:
That’s quite a good thought you know. Particularly if he was anticipating having a good time. Drunk in charge of a time ship is a pretty serious offence. They tend to lock you away in some planet’s stone age and tell you to evolve into a more responsible life-form.
TRILLIAN:
So there’s nothing to do but sit back and see where we turn up. Well what do we do in the meantime?
ARTHUR:
I’ve got a Pocket-Scrabble set.
ZAPHOD:
Go play with a nut.
ARTHUR:
Well if that’s your attitude!
ZAPHOD:
Hey look Earthman, you’ve got a job to do remember? The Question to the Ultimate Answer right? I mean there’s a lot of money tied up in that head thing of yours, I mean, just think of the merchandising: Ultimate Question T-shirts, Ultimate Question Biscuits…
ARTHUR:
Well, yes!
ARTHUR:
But where do we start?! I don’t know! The Ultimate Answer so-called is “Forty-Two”! Well what’s the question? How am I supposed to know?! Could be anything! I mean, “What’s six times seven?”
FORD, ZAPHOD and TRILLIAN:
Er… Forty-two!
ARTHUR:
Yes, I know that! I’m just saying the question could be anything! How should I know?
FORD:
Because you and Trillian are the last generation products of the Earth computer matrix, You must know!
MARVIN:
I know.
FORD:
Shut up, Marvin, this is organism talk.
MARVIN:
It’s printed in the Earthman’s brainwave patterns, but I don’t suppose you’ll be very interested in knowing that.
ARTHUR:
You mean you can see into my mind?
MARVIN:
Yes.
ARTHUR:
And?
MARVIN:
It amazes me how you manage to live in anything that small.
ARTHUR:
Ah. Abuse!
MARVIN:
Yes.
ZAPHOD:
Oh, ignore him, he’s only making it up.
MARVIN:
Making it up? What should I want to make anything up? Life’s bad enough as it is without wanting to invent any more of it.
TRILLIAN:
Marvin if you knew what it was all along why didn’t you tell us?
MARVIN:
You didn’t ask.
FORD:
Well we’re asking you now, metal-man, What’s the question!?
MARVIN:
The Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything?
FORD, ARTHUR, ZAPHOD and TRILLIAN:
MARVIN:
To which the answer is forty-two?
FORD, ZAPHOD and TRILLIAN:
MARVIN:
I can tell that you’re not really interested.
FORD:
Will you just tell us you motorised maniac!?
[Electronic noise]
ARTHUR:
Oh, look the control panel’s lighting up! We must’ve arrived!
ZAPHOD:
Hey yeah, we’ve zapped back into real space.
MARVIN:
I knew you weren’t really interested.
FORD:
The controls won’t respond. It’s still going its own way. Isn’t there anyway we can introduce this ship to the concept of democracy?!
TRILLIAN:
Can we at least find out where we are?
ARTHUR:
The vision screens are all blank, can’t we turn them on?
FORD:
They are on.
ARTHUR:
Why can’t we see any stars?
ZAPHOD:
Hey, ya know, I think we must be outside the galaxy.
FORD:
We’re picking up speed! We’re heading out into intergalactic space! Arthur, check out the rear screens will you?
TRILLIAN:
I feel cold, all alone in this infinite void.
ARTHUR:
Apart from the fleet of black battle cruisers behind us.
TRILLIAN:
What?
FORD:
What fleet?
ZAPHOD:
Uhmmm, er, which, er, particular fleet of black battle cruisers is that Earthman?
ARTHUR:
Oh! The ones on the rear screens. Sorry, I though you’d noticed them. There are about a hundred-thousand. Is that wrong?
MARVIN:
No. What do you expect if you steal the flagship of an admiral of the space fleet?
ZAPHOD:
Marvin! W-what makes you think this is an admiral’s flagship?
MARVIN:
I know it is, I parked it for him.
ZAPHOD:
[Yells] Then why the planet of hell didn’t you tell us?!
MARVIN:
You didn’t ask.
FORD:
You know what we’ve done? We’ve dropped ourselves into the vanguard of a major intergalactic war.
{Dramatic cord}
NARRATOR:
Will our heroes ever have a chance to find out what the Ultimate Question is? Will they be too busy dealing with a hundred thousand horribly beweaponed battle cruisers to have a chance to have a sympathetic chat with Marvin, the paranoid android? Will they eventually have to settle down and lead normal lives as account executives or management consultants? Will life ever be the same again after next week’s last and - reasonably exciting - instalment of ’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’?
ANNOUNCER:
In that episode of ’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’, Peter Jones was The Book. Anthony Sharp was Garkbit the Waiter and Zarquon the Prophet; and Roy Hudd, Compeer at The Restaurant at the End of the Universe. With Simon Jones, Arthur Dent; Geoffrey McGivern, Ford Prefect; Mark Wing-Davey, Zaphod Beeblebrox; Susan Sheridan, Trillian; and Stephen Moore, Marvin. The program was written by Douglas Adams and John Lloyd, and produced by Geoffrey Perkins, with the assistance of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop. If you would like a copy of the book, ’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’, please write to Megadodo Publications, Megadodo House, Ursa Minor. Enclosing three pounds, ninety-five for the book plus five-hundred-and-ninety-seven-million, eight-hundred-and-twelve-thousand, four-hundred-and-six pounds, seven-p, postage and packing.
Fit The Sixth
NARRATOR:
The history of every major galactic civilisation has passed through three distinct and recognisable phases: those of survival, inquiry, and sophistication. Otherwise known as the ‘How’, ‘Why’, and ‘Where’ phases. For instance, the first phase is characterised by the question: “How can we eat?” The second by the question: “Why do we eat?” And the third by the question: “Where should we have lunch?” The history of warfare is similarly subdivided though here the phases are retribution, anticipation, and diplomacy. Thus, retribution: “I’m going to kill you because you killed my brother.” Anticipation: “I’m going to kill you because I killed your brother.” And diplomacy: “I’m going to kill my brother and then kill you on the pretext that your brother did it.” Meanwhile, the Earthman Arthur Dent, to whom all this can be of only academic interest, as his only brother was long ago nibbled to death by an okapi, is about to be plunged into a real intergalactic war. This is largely because the spaceship that he and his companions have inadvertently stolen from The Restaurant at the End of the Universe has now returned itself on autopilot to its rightful time and place. Its rightful time is immediately prior to a massive invasion of an entire alien galaxy, and its rightful place is at the head of a fleet of one-hundred thousand black battle cruisers. This is why:
Scene 1. Int. Spaceship
ARTHUR:
You mean this ship we’ve stolen is the Admiral’s flagship?
FORD:
That’s the way it’s looking. Perhaps we should just ask them if they want it back. You know, if we were reasonably polite about it -
ZAPHOD:
They might just let us off with being lightly killed.
FORD:
Yeah, well, at least it’s better than, ooh, than er…
ZAPHOD:
It isn’t better than anything at all, is it?!
FORD:
Er, no.
TRILLIAN:
Hey that visiscreen is beginning to flicker!
ZAPHOD:
Hey, it must be some guy wanting orders. Aww! Fetched photons!
FORD:
Well, now, now just order him to go away. Y- you’ll just have to bluff it out, Zaphod.
ZAPHOD:
I’ll just have to “bluff it out”?!
FORD:
Yeah! Now sit down, and do something
ARTHUR:
Say something!
TRILLIAN:
Anything!
FORD:
Now don’t worry, we’ll be right behind you, hiding.
[The visiscreen activates]
ZAPHOD:
Ford, this is your idea isn’t it?
FORD:
Yeah. Now sit down there and be a star.
ZAPHOD:
Hey when I’m a star I’ll hire a better ideas man.
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
Haggunenon Under Fleet Commander reporting from Vice Flagship
ZAPHOD:
Oh, uh hi, uh Under Fleet Commandant Adadida, I um…
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
Good Evening Admiral.
ZAPHOD:
Hi. What?
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
I trust you had a pleasant meal?
ZAPHOD:
Uh, wha-what? Ohhhh, er, er, yeah, yeah. Mmm, it was fine, er, thanks.
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
Delighted to hear that sir. We are now in battle readiness state and all deployed to your rear in line of stride, seven minutes from target galaxy, and awaiting your orders.
ZAPHOD:
Great, great! Er, Fine. Well, er, er, you know, er, keep in touch, um, Under, er, First Commandant.
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
Thank you sir. Oh and sir?
ZAPHOD:
Uh, yes?
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
I like your outfit sir.
ZAPHOD:
Oh, uh, …
[Screen shuts off]
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, hmm, fine.
TRILLIAN:
Wow, that’s amazing Zaphod.
ZAPHOD:
Hey that is just too weird.
ARTHUR:
He actually thought you were the admiral!
TRILLIAN:
You did it!
FORD:
Cool, Really Cool Zaphod! Actually pretending to be the admiral!
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, yeah terrific. Now listen you dumb space cookie, I wasn’t pretending to be the admiral for some weird reason he just assumed I was!
ARTHUR:
Well perhaps you look like him or something.
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, well not if he looks like anything like his second-in-command, monkey man!
TRILLIAN:
Well what did he look like?
FORD:
Well, how
ARTHUR:
What was he?
ZAPHOD:
Well he was, he was a big leopard, okay? You know: with, with, y’know, the er, the, er, sunglasses, the in-flight casual spacesuit split to the navel… brown beach loafers… you know the whole bit!
ARTHUR:
How could he think you were the admiral?
FORD:
Well maybe leopards just have a lousy memory for faces.
ZAPHOD:
Hilarious.
TRILLIAN:
No, it must be simpler than that; there’s obviously something wrong with the visiscreen. I’ll have a look at it.
ZAPHOD:
You heard what the big cat said, he said he liked my outfit - so he must have seen me.
FORD:
Ah, maybe you just didn’t have any taste.
TRILLIAN:
Hey! The screen’s coming on again!
[The visiscreen activates]
FORD:
Zaphod! Get, get back in that seat. Tri-Trillian! Trillian
TRILLIAN:
Too late! Get back all of you!
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
Under Fleet Commandant reporting
TRILLIAN:
Hello.
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
Battle state reset and six minutes from target galaxy. Oh, and er, Admiral?
TRILLIAN:
Y- yes?
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
I really like the gear - even better than last time.
TRILLIAN:
Ohh! Thanks.
[The visiscreen deactivates]
ZAPHOD:
Wowee! Weirder and weirder!
TRILLIAN:
Good god!
ARTHUR:
What is it Trillian?
TRILLIAN:
Did you see that? I thought you said he was a leopard!
ARTHUR:
He sounded different.
FORD:
Did he look different?
TRILLIAN:
Well he wasn’t so much a leopard, more of a sort of, er, sort of…
ARTHUR:
What?
TRILLIAN:
You know. Shoebox.
ARTHUR:
A shoebox?!
TRILLIAN:
Full of, well, size-nine chukka boots.
ARTHUR:
A shoebox full of size-nine chukka boots!?
ZAPHOD:
Alright chimp-man, whadda ya think this is? Dictation?
ARTHUR:
I just wondered how she knew they were size-nine!
FORD:
Trillian, are you seriously telling us you’ve been talking to a box of shoes?
TRILLIAN:
Yes.
FORD:
And he -
ZAPHOD:
She.
ARTHUR:
It.
TRILLIAN:
They.
FORD:
…thought that you also were the admiral?
TRILLIAN:
Well you heard it.
ZAPHOD:
What are they? Clinically thick?
FORD:
I think they’re very clever, they’re trying to confuse us to death.
MARVIN:
I don’t think they’re very clever. There’s only one person as intelligent as me within thirteen parsecs of here and that’s me.
ZAPHOD:
Okay Marvin, is there anything that you can tell us?
MARVIN:
Yes, I’ve got this terrible pain in all the diodes down my left side.
ARTHUR:
What was the name the second in command said? Haggunennon? Why don’t we look it up in the Book?
TRILLIAN:
What book?
ARTHUR:
’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’.
ZAPHOD:
Oh that hack rag.
[The Book activates]
THE BOOK:
The Haggunennons of Azizatus Three have the most impatient chromosomes of any life-forms in the galaxy. Where as most races are content to evolve slowly and carefully over thousands of generations - discarding a prehensile toe here, nervously hazarding another nostril there, the Haggunennons would do for Charles Darwin what a squadron of Arcturan Stunt-Apples would have done for Sir Isaac Newton. Their genetic structure, based on the quadruple-striated octo-helix, is so chronically unstable, that far from passing their basic shape onto their children, they will quite frequently evolve several times over lunch. But they do this with such reckless abandon that if, sitting at table, they are unable to reach a coffee spoon, they are liable without a moments consideration to mutate into something with far longer arms - but which is probably quite incapable of drinking the coffee. This, not unnaturally, produces a terrible sense of personal insecurity and a jealous resentment of all stable life-forms, or “filthy rotten stinking samelings” as they call them. They justify this by claiming that as they have personally experienced what it is like to be virtually everybody else they can think of, they are in a very good position to appreciate all their worst points. This appreciation is usually military in nature and is carried out with unmitigated savagery from the gunrooms of their horribly beweaponed, chameleoid death flotilla. Experience has shown that the most effective way of dealing with any Haggunennon you may meet is to run away… terribly fast.
Scene 2. Int. Spaceship
FORD:
Great!
ARTHUR:
Terrific!
TRILLIAN:
Thanks a million, Zaphod.
ZAPHOD:
Well, hey don’t look at me. I mean -
TRILLIAN:
What do we do?
FORD:
The Book says run away.
ZAPHOD:
Uhh, how do we get the automatic pilot on our side.? Box of choccies and some sweet talk? Any ideas, Marvin?
MARVIN:
If I were you I’d be very depressed.
ZAPHOD:
Earthman?
ARTHUR:
I go a long with Marvin.
ZAPHOD:
Ford?
FORD:
Well, I always find that the prospect of death contracts the mind wonderfully.
TRILLIAN:
Ya know, I’ve just thought: there is a chance.
ARTHUR:
What a chance? As far as I can see you might as well lower haystacks off the boat deck of The Lusitania!
TRILLIAN:
No, no, think about it. The second-in-command assumed that the admiral, Zaphod, and I were the same person not because we looked similar, but because we looked completely different!
FORD:
Hey! Y- yes!
TRILLIAN:
So if…
FORD:
Right! Right! I’m with you. If the second-in-command can be a shoebox, the admiral can be anything. A- a paraffin stove, a- a water bison, an anaconda…
ZAPHOD:
Terrr-rific! I’ll root around for the water bison. Trillian you see if you can find the jar the admiral keeps his anacondas in.
FORD:
Look, can it Zaphod! It could quite easily be something mundane: er, a screwdriver, that cord of wire, the chair itself!
ZAPHOD:
Yeah. Hey, you know that’s a really neat chair - could’ve been made for me. It’s got the two headrests, dig?
FORD:
What tho- those two great furry things?
ZAPHOD:
Yeah.
FORD:
Oh, they look ridiculous.
TRILLIAN:
It was very uncomfortable. I prefer something with far longer arms.
ARTHUR:
But which is probably quite incapable of drinking coffee!
ZAPHOD:
Hey, errrr, what did you say, Earthman?
TRILLIAN:
Did you say headrests Zaphod? They look a lot like eyebrows to me.
ZAPHOD:
That chair is scratching its leg.
TRILLIAN:
It’s just been asleep all this time.
FORD:
Arthur! For god’s sake get back here quick!
ZAPHOD:
Yeah stand up when you sit on the admiral, primate!
TRILLIAN:
It’s moving! Look, it’s starting to evolve!
[A loud roar]
ZAPHOD:
[Screams]
FORD:
Eat your heart out Galapagos Islands.
ZAPHOD:
G-force you know what that is?
TRILLIAN:
Let me guess, terrible! Am I wrong?
[Another loud roar]
ZAPHOD:
It’s a carbon copy of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal - or I’m a Vogon’s Grandmother!
ARTHUR:
The Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal! Is it safe?
[Sound of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal salivating]
FORD:
Oh Yes! It’s perfectly safe - it’s just us who are in trouble. If that’s the admiral and he still wants his coffee it ain’t sponge fingers he’s gonna dunk in it.
[A loud roar]
ZAPHOD:
Wuuahhhhhhhh!
TRILLIAN:
Ford! Throw some furniture at it!
FORD:
What do I do?! Pick up this table by the ears?
ARTHUR:
[Shouts]Oh god, the whole place is coming alive!
[We hear the contents of the spaceship slowly waking up…]
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, and we’re coming dead!
TRILLIAN:
These ashtrays! Just turned into a jar full of anacondas!
ZAPHOD:
Just- just tell it we’ll let them know!
TRILLIAN:
Ah! Urgh!
FORD:
Get off me you filthy sofa!
ARTHUR:
God! And I thought Time’s Furnishing was a riffing!
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts]
FORD:
Arthur and I’ll take this one! Zaphod you and the others take the left-hand one!
ZAPHOD:
Right!
[Over the roaring we hear the escape capsule opening]
FORD:
Press the go start Arthur.
[The escape capsule leaves the ship]
Scene 3. Int. Escape Capsule
ARTHUR:
Phew! Safe. Oh! Oh! Hey, Ford, look! The other capsule’s missing! The chute’s empty! Someone else must’ve used that capsule! The others are trapped!
FORD:
Well it’s too late Arthur we can’t help them. This capsule won’t turn back.
ARTHUR:
What happens if I press this button here?
FORD:
Don’t!
[Noise of Phargilor Kangaroo Relocation Drive engaging]
FORD:
Fortunately for Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent, their capsule was fitted with latest in instant space travel: the Phargilor Kangaroo Relocation Drive - by which a ship may be ejected suddenly through the fabric of the space-time continuum and come to rest far from its starting point. This is, however, an emergency device and there is rarely time to plot where the ship will land. Meanwhile, this is what happened to Zaphod, Trillian, and Marvin:
Scene 4. Int. Spaceship
[Ferocious roaring]
TRILLIAN:
[Yells]
ZAPHOD:
Oh! No. No! Get off!
TRILLIAN:
Look out!
[More ferocious roaring]
MARVIN:
Ouch.
TRILLIAN:
[Screams]
[Even more ferocious roaring]
ZAPHOD:
Keep off! Ugh! Uhhh!
MARVIN:
Oh no. Dear, dear, dear, my arm’s come off.
TRILLIAN:
[Puffing with exertion] He’s got us! Urgh!
[The Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal begins advancing on them]
TRILLIAN:
If ever I survive this [Pant] I’ll get a job as Moby Dick’s dentist
ZAPHOD:
Urgh! Wh! Ge-
[More eating]
ZAPHOD:
Can it Trillian, I’m trying to die with dignit-eeeeee!
TRILLIAN:
Urghh!
MARVIN:
I’m just trying to die.
TRILLIAN:
Urgh-huh-huh!
ZAPHOD:
[Yells]
[The Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal begins eating them]
ZAPHOD:
No problem! Pas de problème!
MARVIN:
Ah... the ennui is overpowering.
[The Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal swallows and burps]
NARRATOR:
And this is what happened to Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect:
Scene 5. Int. Escape Capsule
[Noise of Phargilor Kangaroo Relocation Drive disengaging]
ARTHUR:
Are we in normal space?
FORD:
No. I think we’ve materialised inside another spaceship.
ARTHUR:
More problems.
FORD:
Well, we’ll see.
[Sound of scanners checking]
FORD:
Atmosphere’s ok. Le-Let’s get out and have a look.
[Hatch opens]
ARTHUR:
Ford?
FORD:
Yeah?
ARTHUR:
What about the others?
FORD:
Arthur, you’ll have to learn it’s a convention in all space-travelling species that if have to ditch someone, you know - a friend, and there’s nothing you can do, you just let it be. You don’t talk about them, Okay?
ARTHUR:
What, really?
FORD:
And then we get blind drunk about them later.
ARTHUR:
I think there must be something terribly wrong with the universe you know.
FORD:
I think there must be something terribly wrong with this ship!
ARTHUR:
Yes, it looks like a mausoleum.
FORD:
That’s it! Yes you’re right! The place is full of sarcophagi as far as the eye can see! Wild!
ARTHUR:
What’s so great about dead people?
FORD:
Well I don’t know. Let’s have a look. Here! Here. There’s a plaque on this one.
ARTHUR:
What does it say?
FORD:
”Golgafrincham Ark Fleet. Ship B. Hold Seven: Telephone Sanitizers, Second Class.” And a serial number!
ARTHUR:
”Telephone Sanitizer”? A dead telephone sanitizer?
FORD:
Best kind.
ARTHUR:
Well what’s he doing here?
FORD:
Not a lot.
ARTHUR:
No! - but I mean why? Good god! This one’s a dead hairdresser.
FORD:
And this one here’s an advertising account executive.
ARTHUR:
Are these really coffins? They’re terribly cold.
NUMBER TWO:
Alright! Hold it right there!
ARTHUR:
Why isn’t anyone ever pleased to see us?
Scene 6. Int. B Ark. Bridge
CAPTAIN:
[Humming]
NUMBER ONE:
Ummm. Er, Captain.?
CAPTAIN:
Oh. Yes, Number One?
NUMBER ONE:
I- I just had a sort of umm, report-thing from Number Two.
CAPTAIN:
Oh dear.
NUMBER ONE:
He was shouting something or other about having found some prisoners.
CAPTAIN:
Oh well! Perhaps that’ll keep ‘im happy for a bit. Heh, he’s always wanted some.
NUMBER ONE:
Oh, oh….
[Door opens]
NUMBER TWO:
Captain sir.
CAPTAIN:
Ah! Hel-lo Number Two. Having a nice day?
NUMBER TWO:
I brought you the prisoners I located in Freezer Bay Seven sir.
FORD:
Hello.
ARTHUR:
Er, Hello.
CAPTAIN:
Oh Hello! Excuse me not getting up - just having a quick bath. Well! Um, gin-and-tonics all round then. Uh, look in the fridge will you Number One?
NUMBER ONE:
Certainly, certainly sir.
NUMBER TWO:
Don’t you want to interrogate the prisoners, sir?
CAPTAIN:
Dear oh dear, why on Earth should I want to do that?
NUMBER TWO:
Well to get information out of them sir. They are my prisoners, can’t I just interrogate them - a little bit?
CAPTAIN:
Oh, all right, if you must. Ask them what they want to drink.
NUMBER TWO:
Oh thank you sir. [Shouts] All right! You scum! You vermin!
CAPTAIN:
I say, steady on Number Two.
NUMBER TWO:
Oh very good sir. Whaddya you want to drink?!
FORD:
Well, uh, the gin-and-tonic sounds very nice to me. Arthur?
ARTHUR:
What? Oh yes..
NUMBER TWO:
With ice or without?
FORD:
Oh, with please.
NUMBER TWO:
Lemon?
FORD:
Er, yes please. And do you have any of those little biscuits? You know the cheesy ones?
NUMBER TWO:
I’m asking the questions!
CAPTAIN:
Ye-ah… Number Two… Number Two.
NUMBER TWO:
Sir?
CAPTAIN:
Push off would you, there’s a good chap. I’m trying to have a relaxing bath.
NUMBER TWO:
Sir. May I remind you that you have now been in that bath for over three years?
CAPTAIN:
Yes. Well, you need to relax a lot in a job like mine.
ARTHUR:
What on Earth’s going on?
FORD:
Could I actually ask you, er, what your job is, in fact?
NUMBER ONE:
Er, er, your drinks.
FORD:
Oh, thanks
ARTHUR:
Thanks.
FORD:
I mean couldn’t help noticing, you know, the bodies.
CAPTAIN:
Bodies?
FORD:
All those dead telephone sanitizers and account executives, you know, in, in the hold.
CAPTAIN:
Oh! They’re not dead! Good Lord, No, no. They’re just frozen - they’re going to be revived.
ARTHUR:
You really mean you’ve got a hold full of frozen hairdressers?
CAPTAIN:
Oh yes. Millions of them! Hairdressers, tired T.V. producers, insurance salesmen, personnel officers…
NUMBER TWO:
Security guards…
NUMBER ONE:
Management consultants…
CAPTAIN:
Yes, well, you name it and we’ve got it!
NUMBER ONE:
We certainly have yes!
NUMBER TWO:
[Laughs]
CAPTAIN:
We’re going to colonise another planet!
ARTHUR:
What!?
NUMBER TWO:
Oh, yes, yes, yes.
CAPTAIN:
It’s exciting, isn’t, eh?
ARTHUR:
What, with that lot?
CAPTAIN:
Yeah - oh don’t misunderstand me, we’re just one of the ships in the Ark Fleet. You see We’re the B Ark, you see. Uh, sorry, could I just ask you two to run a bit more hot water for me?
[The taps run water]
CAPTAIN:
Ah yes. Do help yourself to more drinks would you?
FORD:
Oh, thanks.
ARTHUR:
What’s a “B Ark”?
CAPTAIN:
What? Oh, well! What happened you see, was our planet was doomed.
ARTHUR:
Doomed?
CAPTAIN:
Oh yes. So what everyone thought was, well let’s pack the whole population in some sort of giant spaceship, you see, and go and settle on another planet!
ARTHUR:
You mean a less-doomed one?
CAPTAIN:
Oh precisely yes. So it was decided to build three ships, three Arks in space, anyway…where’s the soap? Ah! Thank you. Ah! So the idea was that into the first ship, the A Ship, would go all the brilliant leaders…
NUMBER ONE:
The scientists…
CAPTAIN:
Yes, the great artists, you know, all the achievers. And then, into the third ship, the C Ship, would go all the people who did the actual work; who made things and did things you see. And then in the B Ship -
NUMBER ONE:
That’s us.
CAPTAIN:
Yes. Would go everyone else, the middlemen you see. And so we were sent off first.
ARTHUR:
But what was wrong with your planet?
CAPTAIN:
Well it was doomed - as I said. Apparently it was going to crash into the sun. Or was it the moon that was going to crash into us?
NUMBER ONE:
No, no, I thought it was that the planet was more or less bound to be invaded by a gigantic swarm of twelve-foot piranha bees.
NUMBER TWO:
No, no, no. That’s not what I was told! My commanding officer swore blind that the entire planet was in emanate danger of being eaten by an enormous mutant star goat.
FORD:
Oh really, really?
NUMBER TWO:
Yes, but he was just hoping that the ship he was going in would be ready in time.
ARTHUR:
But they made sure that they sent all you lot off first anyway?
CAPTAIN:
Oh yes, everyone said, and very nicely I think -
NUMBER ONE:
Oh yes sir. Absolutely charming.
CAPTAIN:
That it was very important for moral to feel that they would be arriving on a planet where they could be sure of a good haircut and where the phones were clean.
FORD:
Oh yes! Well I- I can see that would be very important.
ARTHUR:
Can you?!
FORD:
[Now trying very hard not to laugh]Sh-shh Arthur. And er, the, the other ships followed on after you did they?
CAPTAIN:
Ah! Well, it’s funny you should mention that…
NUMBER TWO:
Yes, yes isn’t it?
NUMBER ONE:
Yes.
CAPTAIN:
Because curiously enough, we haven’t actually heard a peep out of them since we left
NUMBER ONE:
No.
CAPTAIN:
But they must be behind us somewhere.
FORD:
Unless, of course, they were eaten by the goat.
CAPTAIN:
Ah! Yes… the goat… Hmm, it’s a funny thing you know. Now that I’ve actually come to tell the story to someone else, I mean - doesn’t it strike you as odd Number One?
NUMBER ONE:
Well sir, er…
CAPTAIN:
Huh?
NUMBER ONE:
Ah…
CAPTAIN:
Ah…
NUMBER ONE:
Mmmh…
CAPTAIN:
Mmmh…
NUMBER ONE:
Oh…
CAPTAIN:
Oh…
FORD:
Well, I can see that you’ve got a lot of things you’re gonna want to talk about, so thanks for the drinks and if you could sort of drop us off and the nearest, convenient planet..?
CAPTAIN:
Ah well, that’s a little difficult you see because our trajectory- thingy, was preset before we left Golgafrincham.
FORD:
When are you gonna reach the planet you’re meant to be colonising?
CAPTAIN:
Oh, well we nearly there!… I think… yes. Any second now. Well it’s probably time I got out of the bath in fact. Ha ha. Oh… I don’t know though… why stop just when you’re enjoying it, you know I always say…
ARTHUR:
So we’re actually going to land in a minute?
CAPTAIN:
Well not, not, not so much land in fact, I think as far as I can remember we’re programmed to, er crash on it.
ARTHUR and FORD:
”Crash”?
CAPTAIN:
Yes. It’s all part of the plan. … I think. There was terribly good reason for it which I can’t… quite… remember at the moment.
FORD:
[Yells in exasperation] You’re a load of useless, bloody loonies!!
CAPTAIN:
Ah, yes, that was it, that was reason it was. Ha. Pass me the loofah will you?
[The ship crash lands]
NARRATOR:
’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ has this to say about the planet of Golgafrincham: It is a planet with an ancient and mysterious history, in which the most mysterious figures of all are, without doubt, those of the Great Circling poets of Arium. These Circling Poets used to live in remote mountain passes where they would lie and wait for small bands of unwary travellers, circle round them, and throw rocks at them. And when the travellers cried out saying ‘why didn’t they go away and get on with writing some poems instead of pestering people with all this rock-throwing business,’ they would suddenly break off and sing them an incredibly long and beautiful song - in which they told of how there once went forth, from the City of Vassillian, a party of five sage princes with four horses. The first part of the song tells how these five sage princes - who are, of course, brave, noble, and wise - travel widely in distant lands, fight giant ogres, pursue exotic philosophies, take tea with weird gods, and rescue beautiful monsters from ravening princesses, before finally announcing that they have achieved enlightenment and that their wanderings are therefore accomplished. The second, and much longer part, tells of all their bickerings about which one of them is going to have to walk back. It was, of course, a descendent of these eccentric poets who invented this curious tale of impending doom which enabled the people of Golgafrincham to rid themselves of an entire useless third of their population. The other two-thirds, of course, stayed at home and lived full, rich, and happy lives until they were all suddenly wiped out by a virulent disease contracted from a dirty telephone. Meanwhile, Arthur Dent, Ford Prefect, and an Ark-load of frozen middle management men have crashed into the prehistoric dawn of a small, blue-green planet circling an unregarded yellow sun at the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral Arm of the Galaxy. After a year or so they convene a meeting to consider their position, which is not, on the whole, good…
Scene 7. Ext. Prehistoric Planet
FORD:
You don’t seem to understand…
MAN IN CROWD:
No, no, no I just -
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
It’s a simple matter! It’s a procedural matter! That’s the point!
CAPTAIN:
Alright, alright, alright, alright!
CHAIRMAN:
I’d like to call this meeting to some sort of order, if that is at all possible.
CROWD MEMBER:
Care for a light drink sir?
CHAIRMAN:
Uh, not now love…
FORD:
Look! C’mon please! I mean everybody! there is some important news: we’ve made a discovery.
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Is it on the agenda?
FORD:
Oh don’t give me that!
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Well I’m sorry, but speaking as a fully trained management consultant I must insist on the importance of observing the committee structure.
CROWD MEMBERS:
Yeah, yeah, yeah!.
FORD:
On a prehistoric planet!?
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Address the chair.
CROWD MEMBERS:
Yes.
FORD:
There isn’t a chair! There’s only a rock!
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Well, call it a chair.
FORD:
Why not call it a rock?
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
You - you obviously have no conception of modern business methods…
FORD:
And you have no conception of where the hell you are -
MARKETING GIRL:
Oh look shut up you two, just shut up! I want to table a motion. Guy: Boulder a motion you mean…
FORD:
Tha-Thank you I think I’ve made that point! Now listen! Someone: Order, Order!
FORD:
Oh God!
CHAIRMAN:
Listen! I would like to call to order the five-hundred-and-seventy-third meeting of the colonization committee of the planet of Fintlewoodlewix. And furthermore -
FORD:
Oh this is futile! Five-hundred-and-seventy-three committee meetings and you haven’t even discovered fire yet!
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
If you would care to look at the agenda sheet -
GUY:
Agenda rock, yes…
FORD:
Oh, go on back home or something will ya?
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
…you will see that we are about to have a report from the hairdressers fire development subcommittee today.
HAIRDRESSER:
That’s me.
FORD:
Yeah well you know what they’ve done don’t you? You gave them a couple of sticks and they’ve gone and developed them in to a pair of bloody scissors!
MARKETING GIRL:
When you have been in marketing as long as I have, you’ll know that before any new product can be developed, it has to be properly researched. I mean yes, yes we’ve got to find out what people want from fire, I mean how do they relate to it, the image -
FORD:
Oh, stick it up your nose.
MARKETING GIRL:
Yes which is precisely the sort of thing we need to know, I mean do people want fire that can be fitted nasally.
CHAIRMAN:
Yes, and, and, and the wheel. What about this wheel thingy? Sounds a terribly interesting project to me.
MARKETING GIRL:
Er, yeah, well we’re having a little, er, difficulty here…
FORD:
Difficulty?! It’s the single simplest machine in the entire universe!
MARKETING GIRL:
Well alright mister wise guy, if you’re so clever you tell us what colour it should be!
FORD:
Oh Mighty Zarquon! Has no-one done anything?
MARKETING GIRL:
And of course Finlon the producer has rescued a camera from the wreckage of the ship and is making a fascinating documentary on the indigenous cavemen of the area.
FORD:
Oh yes, and they’re dying out, have you noticed that?
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Yes we must make a note sir to stop selling them life insurance.
FORD:
But don’t you understand? Just since we’ve arrived they’ve started dying out.
MARKETING GIRL:
Yes! Yes! And this comes over terribly well in the film that he’s making. I gather that he wants to, eh, make a documentary about you next captain.
CAPTAIN:
What? Oh. Oh really? That’s awfully nice.
MARKETING GIRL:
Oh, he’s got a very strong angle on it: you know the burden of responsibility, the loneliness of command…
CAPTAIN:
Ah well I wouldn’t overstress that angle you know, I mean one’s never alone with a rubber duck…
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Er, sir, er, skipper?
CAPTAIN:
Want a squeeze, eh?
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Um listen, if we could, er, for a moment move on to the subject of fiscal policy -
FORD:
”Fiscal Policy”?!
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Yes.
FORD:
How can you have money if none of you actually produce anything? It doesn’t grow on trees you know!
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
You know If you would allow me to continue!
CAPTAIN:
Yes let him to continue.
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Since we decided a few weeks ago to adopt leaves as legal tender, we have, of course all become immensely rich.
FORD:
No really? Really?
CROWD MEMBERS:
Yes, very good move…
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
But, we have also run into a small inflation problem on account of the high level of leaf availability. Which means that I gather the current going rate has something like three major deciduous forests buying one ship’s peanut. So, um, in order to obviate this problem and effectively revalue the leaf, we are about to embark on an extensive defoliation campaign, and um, burn down all the forests. I think that’s a sensible move don’t you?
MARKETING GIRL:
That makes economic sense.
[Murmurs of agreement from crowd]
FORD:
[Yells] You’re absolutely barmy! You’ve a bunch of raving nutters!
MARKETING GIRL:
Well is it - perhaps - in order to inquire what you have been doing all this time, huh?
CROWD MEMBERS:
Yes!
MARKETING GIRL:
Yes, you and that other interloper have been missing for months.
FORD:
Well, with respect love, we have been travelling around trying to find out about this planet.
MARKETING GIRL:
Well, that doesn’t sound very productive. I mean I’ve looked -
FORD:
Well I have got news, I have got news for you. It doesn’t matter a pair feted dingo’s kidneys what you all choose to do from now on. Burn down the forests, anything. It won’t make a scrap of difference. Two-million years you’ve got, and that’s it. At the end of that, your race will be dead, gone, and good-riddance to you. Remember that. Two. Million. Years.
CAPTAIN:
Ah. It’s time for another bath. Hmph. Pass me the sponge somebody will you?
Scene 8. Ext. Clearing on Prehistoric Planet
ARTHUR:
No. ‘Q’ scores ten you see? And it’s on a ‘Triple Word Score’, so -
CAVEMAN:
Ugh, Ugh, Ugh, Ugh!
ARTHUR:
I’m sorry, but I explained the rules!
CAVEMAN:
Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh!
ARTHUR:
No! No! Look, please put down that jawbone!
CAVEMAN:
Ugh, mmh, mmh.
ARTHUR:
All right, we’ll start again. Now try to concentrate this time.
CAVEMAN:
Ugh.
FORD:
Oh what are you doing Arthur?
ARTHUR:
Trying to teach the caveman to play ‘Scrabble’. It’s uphill work. The only word they know is “grunt” and they can’t spell it.
FORD:
And would you please tell me what that is supposed to achieve?
ARTHUR:
We’ve got to encourage them to evolve Ford! Can you imagine what a world is going to be like that descends from those cretins over there?!
FORD:
We don’t have to imagine. Let’s face it, we already know what it’s like. We’ve seen it. There’s no escape.
ARTHUR:
Did you tell them what we discovered?
FORD:
Slartibartfast’s signature on the glacier? No. W- what’s the point? Why should they listen? What’s it to them that this place happens to be called the Earth?
ARTHUR:
And that it happens to be my original home!
FORD:
Yeah but you won’t even be born for nearly two-million years! So they’re likely to feel that it’s not a lot of your business. I mean, face up to it Arthur, those zeebs over there are your ancestors, not these cavemen. Put the ‘Scrabble’ away, it won’t save the Human race, because Mr. Ugh here is not destined to be the human race. The human race is currently sitting ‘round that rock over there, making documentaries about themselves.
ARTHUR:
But there must be something we can do!
FORD:
No! Nothing. Really, nothing! Because it’s all been done. I mean listen, we’ve been backwards and forwards through time and ended up here: two-million years behind where we started. But that doesn’t change the future, because we’ve seen it! I mean wise up kid, there’s nothing you can do to change it because it’s already happened.
ARTHUR:
And all because we arrived here with the Golgafrinchams in their B Ark?
FORD:
Yes.
CAVEMAN:
Ugh-um
ARTHUR:
Poor bloody caveman. It’s all been a bit of a waste of time for you, hasn’t it?
CAVEMAN:
Ugh.
ARTHUR:
You’ve been out-evolved by a telephone sanitizer.
CAVEMAN:
Abh, Ugh, uh, ugh, umph.
FORD:
He’s pointing to the ‘Scrabble’ board.
ARTHUR:
Pointing to the ‘Scrabble’ board… Well he’s probably spelled “library” with one “R” again, poor bastard.
FORD:
No he hasn’t!
ARTHUR:
Hey, no, look! It says “forty-two”. The experiment! It’s something to do with the computer program to find the Ultimate Question!!
FORD:
Hey! You know what this means, don’t you?
ARTHUR:
What?
FORD:
It must’ve gone wrong! If the computer matrix was set of to follow the evolution of the human race through from the cavemen, and then we’ve arrived and caused them to die out…
ARTHUR:
And actually replaced them…
FORD:
…then the whole thing is cocked up.
ARTHUR:
So whatever it was that Marvin spotted in my brainwave patterns is, in fact, the wrong question!
FORD:
Yeah! Well, it might be right, but it’s probably wrong. Ah, if only we could find out what it is…!
ARTHUR:
Look, if it’s printed in my brainwave patterns but I don’t know how to reach it - suppose we introduce some random element which can be shaped by that pattern!
FORD:
Like?
ARTHUR:
Pulling out letters from the ‘Scrabble’ bag!
FORD:
Brilliant! That’s bloody brilliant!
ARTHUR:
Right.
FORD:
Right.
ARTHUR:
First four letters…
FORD:
”W. H. A. T.” What.
ARTHUR:
Go on…
FORD:
”D. O.” Do. It’s working! Hey this is terrific! It’s really coming! “You get”… what do you get…
ARTHUR:
More here!
FORD:
…”if…you…mul- multiply” - oh, I’m beginning to get sinking feelings about this…”if you multiply six by, by… by nine”. By Nine? Is that it?!
ARTHUR:
That’s it. Six by nine…forty-two! I always said there was something fundamentally wrong about the universe!
FORD:
Hmmm.
ARTHUR:
So what do we do now?
FORD:
I guess we just swallow our pride and go and join the human race.
ARTHUR:
Yes.
CAVEMAN:
[Grunts]
FORD:
Right.
CAVEMAN:
[Grunts]
ARTHUR:
It’s sad though, just at the moment it’s a very beautiful planet.
FORD:
It is. It is indeed. The rich primal greens… the river snaking off into the distance… the burning trees…
ARTHUR:
And in two million years: bang! It gets destroyed by the Vogons. What a life for a young planet to look forward to!
FORD:
Well - better than some. I read of one planet off in the seventh dimension that got used as a ball in a game of Intergalactic Bar Billards. Got putted straight into a black hole, killed ten-billion people.
ARTHUR:
Hmm. Total madness.
FORD:
Yeah! Only scored thirty points too.
ARTHUR:
Where did you read that?
FORD:
Hmm, a book.
ARTHUR:
Which book was that?
FORD:
’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’…
ARTHUR:
Oh that thing….
[Music: ‘What a Wonderful World’ by Louis Armstrong]
ANNOUNCER:
In the last episode of ’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’, Peter Jones was The Book. Simon Jones played Arthur Dent, and Geoffrey McGivern, Ford Prefect. Mark Wing-Davey was Zaphod Beeblebrox; Susan Sheridan, Trillian; Stephen Moore, Marvin; Beth Porter, Marketing Girl; Jonathan Cecil, Number One and Management Consultant; David Jason, Captain and Caveman; and Aubrey Woods, Number Two and the Hairdresser. The program was written by Douglas Adams and John Lloyd, and produced by Geoffrey Perkins, with the technical assistance of Alick Hale Munro and Paul Hoyden, and Harry Parker and Dick Mills of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop.
NARRATOR:
The story so far: in the beginning the universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move. Many races believe that it was created by some sort of god, though the Jatravartid people of Viltvodle Six firmly believe that the entire Universe was, in fact, sneezed out of the nose of a being called the Great Green Arkleseizure. The Jatravartids, who live in perpetual fear of the time they call ‘The Coming of the Great White Handkerchief’, are small, blue creatures with more than fifty arms each, who are therefore unique in being the only race in history to have invented the aerosol deodorant before the wheel. However, the Great Green Arkleseizure theory was not widely accepted outside Viltvodle Six. And so, one day, a race of hyper-intelligent pan-dimensional beings built themselves a gigantic supercomputer called Deep Thought, to calculate once and for all the answer to the Ultimate question of Life, the Universe, and Everything. For seven-and-a-half million years Deep Thought computed and calculated and eventually announced that the answer was in fact, “Forty-Two”. And so another, even bigger computer had to be built to find out what the actual question was. And this computer, which was called the Earth, was so large that it was frequently mistaken for a planet - particularly by the strange ape-like beings who roamed its surface, totally unaware that they were simply part of a gigantic computer program. And this is very odd, because without that fairly simple and obvious piece of knowledge, nothing that ever happened on Earth could possibly make the slightest bit of sense. However, at the critical moment of readout, the Earth was unexpectedly demolished to make way for a new hyperspace bypass, and the only hope of finding the Ultimate question now lies buried deep in the minds of Arthur Dent and Trillian, the only native Earth people to have survived the demolition. Unfortunately, they and their strange companions from Betelgeuse are at the moment being shot at, behind a computer bank on the lost planet of Magrathea. This is what the computer bank is about to do:
[Huge explosion]
NARRATOR:
And the time at which it is going to do it is twenty seconds from now.
Scene 1. Int. Computer Area. Magrathea
[Lots of Kill-O-Zap weapons fire]
FORD:
The computer bank is absorbing a hell of a lot of energy!
[As the Kill-O-Zap gunfire continues, a buzzing sound begins to build as the computer bank begins to heat up]
FORD:
I think it’s about to blow.
ARTHUR:
It’s a shame we never got the work done revising the book. I think it looked rather promising.
ZAPHOD:
Yeah… what book?
ARTHUR:
’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’.
ZAPHOD:
Oh, that thing!
FORD:
Look I hate to say this lads, but this thing really is going to blow up!
ZAPHOD:
Ok, ookay.
[Huge explosion… silence… soft dinner music fades up into]
Scene 2. Int. Milliway's
TRILLIAN:
My head.
GARKBIT:
Good evening gentlemen. Madam.
ZAPHOD:
Er...
GARKBIT:
Have you a reservation?
FORD:
Reservation?
TRILLIAN:
So this is the afterlife.
GARKBIT:
Yes sir
FORD:
You need a reservation for the afterlife?
GARKBIT:
Afterlife, sir?
ARTHUR:
This is the afterlife?
FORD:
Well, I assume so, I mean there’s no way we could have survived that blast, is there?
ARTHUR:
No.
TRILLIAN:
None at all.
ZAPHOD:
I certainly didn’t survive, I was a total goner.
ARTHUR:
I was dead too.
ZAPHOD:
Wham, bang, and that was it.
FORD:
I mean we didn’t stand a chance, we must have been blown to bits… arms, legs everywhere. xxx
ZAPHOD:
Yeah!
ARTHUR:
Yeah!
TRILLIAN:
Yeah!
FORD:
Yeah.
GARKBIT:
If you would care to order drinks…
ZAPHOD:
Kerpow! Splat! Er…
GARKBIT:
Sir?
ZAPHOD:
And here we are…
TRILLIAN:
Yeah.
ZAPHOD:
…lying dead…
TRILLIAN:
Standing.
ZAPHOD:
Er, standing dead, in this, er, desolate…
ARTHUR:
Restaurant.
ZAPHOD:
Standing dead in this…
ARTHUR:
…Five Star…
ZAPHOD:
…restaurant.
FORD:
Bit odd, isn’t it?
ZAPHOD:
Er, yeah.
TRILLIAN:
Nice chandeliers though.
ARTHUR:
It’s not so much an afterlife, more a sort of après-vie.
ZAPHOD:
Hey hang about. I think we’re missing something important here, something that somebody just said.
TRILLIAN:
About the chandeliers?
ZAPHOD:
No, something really important. Hey, hey, hey, er, you.
GARKBIT:
Sir.?
ZAPHOD:
Did you say something about… drinks?
GARKBIT:
Certainly sir. If the lady or the gentlemen would care to take drinks before dinner.
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, great!
TRILLIAN:
Yeah
FORD:
Ta-haa!
GARKBIT:
And the universe will explode later, for your pleasure.
ZAPHOD:
Hey what?
FORD:
Wow! What sort of drinks do you serve here?
GARKBIT:
I think sir has perhaps misunderstood me.
FORD:
Oh I hope not.
GARKBIT:
It is not unusual for our customers to be a little disorientated by the time journey. So if -
FORD, ZAPHOD and TRILLIAN:
Time journey?!
ARTHUR:
You mean this isn’t the afterlife?
GARKBIT:
Afterlife sir? No, sir.
ARTHUR:
And we’re not dead?
GARKBIT:
Ha. No sir. Sir is most evidently alive. Otherwise I would not attempt to serve sir.
FORD:
Then where the photon are we?
ZAPHOD:
Hey! heyy, heyyy, hey, heyyy! I’ve sussed it!
ARTHUR:
What?
FORD:
What?
TRILLIAN:
What?
ZAPHOD:
This must be Milliway's!
TRILLIAN, FORD and ARTHUR:
Milliway's?
GARKBIT:
YesMilliway's. The Restaurant at the End of the Universe.
ARTHUR:
End of what?
GARKBIT:
The universe.
ARTHUR:
When did that end?
GARKBIT:
In just a few minutes sir. Now if you would care to order drinks, I’ll show you to your table.
NARRATOR:
The Restaurant at the End of the Universe is one of the most extraordinary ventures in the entire history of catering. A vast time bubble has been projected into the future to the precise moment of the end of the universe. This is, of course, impossible. In it, guests take their places at table and eat sumptuous meals whilst watching the whole of creation explode about them. This is, of course, impossible. You can arrive for any sitting you like without prior reservation because you can book retrospectively as it were, when you return to your own time. This is, of course, impossible. At the restaurant you can meet and dine with a fascinating cross-section of the entire population of space and time. This is, of course, impossible. You can visit it as many times as you like and be sure of never meeting yourself because of the embarrassment that usually causes. This is, of course, impossible. All you have to do is deposit one penny in a savings account in your own era and when you arrive at the end of time, the operation of compound interest means that the fabulous cost of your meal has been paid for. This is, of course, impossible. Which is why the advertising executives of the star system of Bastablon came up with this slogan:
“If you’ve done six impossible things this morning, why not round it off with breakfast at Milliway's - the Restaurant at the End of the Universe!”
Scene 3. Int. Milliway's
[Applause]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Ladies and gentlemen… Ladies and gentlemen, friends… Welcome to the Restaurant at the End of the Universe. I am your host for tonight, Max Quordlepleen and I’ve just come straight from the very, very, very other end of time, where I’ve been hosting a show at The Big Bang Burger Chef, where we had a real wa-a-hey of an evening ladies and gentlemen, you know what I mean! And I will be with you throughout this tremendous historic occasion, the end of history itself. I just want you to think about that ladies and gentlemen, friends, thank you…
[Applause]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Ta-hah, well - er, nhank you, thank you. Ladies and gentlemen take your places at table, the candles are lit the band is playing and - what ma’am? Uh, yes, its, uh down the corridor, the second door on your right. And as the force shielded dome above us fades into transparency revealing a dark and sullen sky, hung heavy with the ancient light of livid swollen stars I - it’s on the right. I can see, friends, we’re in for a fabulous evening’s apocalypse! Thank you very much.
[Applause]
ARTHUR:
But look Ford, surely if the universe is about to end here and now, don’t we go with it?
FORD:
Ah, no, no, no, look, I mean, as soon as you come into this dive I think you get held in this sort of amazing force-shielded temporal warp thing.
ARTHUR:
Hmm?
FORD:
Look, look, I’ll show you…Now imagine this napkin, right? …as the temporal universe, right? And, and this spoon as a transductional mode in matter curve.
ARTHUR:
That’s the spoon I was eating with!
FORD:
Oh alright, imagine, imagine this spoon as the, as the transductional mode in the matter curve - no, no, better still, this fork -
ZAPHOD:
Hey could you let go of my fork please?
FORD:
Well, look, look, Look, why don’t we say this wine glass is the temporal universe so if I sort of…
[He demonstrates, but loses his grip and the glass smashes to the floor]
FORD:
Yeah, well, Forget that. I mean do you know how the universe began for a kick off?
ARTHUR:
Well probably not
FORD:
Alright imagine this: you get a large round bath made of ebony.
ARTHUR:
Where from? Harrod’s was destroyed by the Vogons.
FORD:
Well it doesn’t matter -
ARTHUR:
So you keep saying!
FORD:
No, No listen. Just imagine that you’ve got this ebony bath, right? And it’s conical.
ARTHUR:
Conical? What kind of bath is -
FORD:
No, no, shh, shhh, it’s, it’s, it’s conical okay? So what you do, you fill it with fine white sand right? Or sugar, or anything like that. And when it’s full, you pull the plug out and it all just twirls down out of the plug hole… but the thing is…
ARTHUR:
Why?
FORD:
No, the clever thing is that you film it happening. You get a movie camera from somewhere and actually film it. But then you thread the film in the projector backwards.
ARTHUR:
Backwards?
FORD:
Yeah, neat you see. So what happens is you sit and you watch it and then everything appears to swirl upwards, out of the plug hole and fill the bath… amazing.
ARTHUR:
And that’s how the universe began?
FORD:
No. But it’s a marvellous way to relax.
TRILLIAN:
Funny man.
FORD:
Well it broke the ice didn’t it?
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
[Blows into microphone]> And as the photon storms gather in the swirling clouds around us, preparing to tear apart the last of the red hot, hot suns, I hope you’ll all settle back and enjoy with me what I am sure we will all find an immensely exciting and terminal experience. Believe me ladies and gentleman, there’s nothing penultimate about this one you know what I mean! Ha! This ladies and gentleman is the proverbial it.
[Applause]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Now Thank you. And after this there is void. Absolute nothing… except, of course, for the sweet trolley and our fine selection of Aldebaran liqueurs. And now, at the risk of putting a damper on the wonderful sense of doom and futility here, well I’d like to welcome a few parties. Now, do we have a party here, do we have a party here from the Zansellquasure Flamarion Bridge Club from beyond the Vortvoid of Qvarne? Are they here?
[Cheers]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Yes… ah……Oh that’s wonderful, waving their qvarne streamers in the air. Good! Jolly Good! And a party of minor deities from the Halls of Asgard?
[Cheers, applause, and the sound of thunderbolts]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
hen-heh… Ouch! That hurt. Still we’re all friends at the end of the universe. Now, do we have here a party of young conservatives from Sirius B?
[Barking, growling, and howling]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Hmmm… Yes, yes we do… And lastly, a party of devout believers from the Church of the Second Coming of the Great Prophet Zarquon? Well fellas, lets hope he’s hurrying because he’s only got eight minutes left! Ta-hinh-ha!
[Laughter]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Ha…No, seriously though, no seriously, no, please, please. I mean no offence meant because I know, we shouldn’t make fun of, deeply held beliefs. So I think, a big hand please, for the Great Prophet Zarquon…. where ever he’s got to.
[Laughter and applause]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Okay Thank you, thank you. I just want to say how marvellous it is to see how many of you come here time and time again…
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
As the final death-throws…
GARKBIT:
Uh, excuse me sir.
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
…of nature begin…
ZAPHOD:
Who me?
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
…their…
GARKBIT:
Mister Zaphod Beeblebrox?
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
…In just a few moments…
ZAPHOD:
Uh, yeah.
GARKBIT:
There’s a phone call for you.
ZAPHOD:
Hey what?
TRILLIAN:
Here?
ZAPHOD:
Hey-uh-heyy, but wh-who knows where I am?
TRILLIAN:
Zaphod! Perhaps it’s the police! Could they have traced us here?
ZAPHOD:
You mean they want to arrest me over the phone? Could be, I’m a pretty dangerous dude when I’m cornered.
FORD:
Oh yeah, you go to pieces so fast that people get hit by the shrapnel.
[Laugher from crowd in background]
GARKBIT:
I am not personally acquainted with the metal gentleman in question, sir -
TRILLIAN:
Metal?
GARKBIT:
…but I’m informed that he has been awaiting your return for a considerable number of millennia. It seems you left here somewhat precipitously.
ZAPHOD:
Hey, “left here”? We’ve only just arrived.
GARKBIT:
Indeed sir. But before you arrived here sir, you left here.
ZAPHOD:
You’re saying that before we arrived here, we left here?
GARKBIT:
That is what I said sir.
ZAPHOD:
Put your analyst on danger money baby, now.
FORD:
No, no, no, no, wait a minute. Where exactly is here?
GARKBIT:
The planet Magrathea sir.
FORD:
But we just left there! This is The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, I thought.
GARKBIT:
Precisely sir. The one was constructed on the ruins of the other.
ARTHUR:
Ahhh! You mean we’ve travelled in time, but not in space!
ZAPHOD:
Listen you semi-evolved simian, go climb a tree, won’t you!
ARTHUR:
Oh go and bang your heads together, four eyes!
GARKBIT:
No, no, your monkey has got it right sir.
ARTHUR:
Who are you calling a monkey?!
GARKBIT:
You jumped forward in time many millions of years, while retaining the same position in space. Your friend has been waiting for you in the mean time.
FORD:
Well what’s he been doing all the time?
GARKBIT:
Rusting a little sir.
TRILLIAN:
Marvin! It must be Marvin!
FORD:
The paranoid android!
ZAPHOD:
Space cookies! Oh, hand me the rap-rod, plate captain!
GARKBIT:
Pardon sir?
ZAPHOD:
Pass the phone, waiter. Gee you guys are so un-hip it’s a wonder your bums don’t fall off.
GARKBIT:
Our what sir?
[The telephone is set on the table]
GARKBIT:
The phone sir.
ZAPHOD:
Marvin! Hi, how you doing kid?
MARVIN:
[On telephone] I think you ought to know I’m feeling very depressed.
ZAPHOD:
Hey, yeah? We’re having a great time: food, wine, a little personal abuse, and the universe going foom. Where can we find you?
MARVIN:
[On telephone] You don’t have to pretend to be interested in me you know. I know perfectly well I’m only a menial robot -
ZAPHOD:
yeah, okay, okay, but, uh, where are you?
MARVIN:
[On telephone] “Reverse primary thrust, Marvin”, that’s all they say to me. “Open airlock number three, Marvin.” “Marvin, can you pick up that piece of paper?” Can I pick up that piece of paper! Here I am, brain the size of a planet…
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, yeah, uh
MARVIN:
[On telephone] ’m quite used to be humiliated. I can even go stick my head in a bucket of water if you’d like.
ZAPHOD:
yeah, uh Marvin?
MARVIN:
[On telephone] Would you like me to go and stick my head in a bucket of water? I’ve got one ready. Wait a minute.
FORD:
What’s he saying, Zaphod?
ZAPHOD:
Oh, nothing.
[Audible over the telephone is the sound of Marvin sticking his head in a bucket of water]
ZAPHOD:
He just phoned up to wash his head at us.
MARVIN:
[On telephone] Has that satisfied you?
ZAPHOD:
Will you please tell us where you are!
MARVIN:
[On telephone] I’m in the car park.
ZAPHOD:
In the car park!? What are you doing there?
MARVIN:
[On telephone] Parking cars what else do you do in the car park?
ZAPHOD:
well, yeah, yeah, okay. Stay there. [He hangs up the telephone] C’mon guys let’s go. Marvin’s down in the car park.
ARTHUR:
The car park? What’s he doing in the car park?
ZAPHOD:
Parking cars. What else dum-dum? Hey Ford, C’mon Trillion, let’s move.
ARTHUR:
What about my Pears Galumbit?
[They head downstairs into the car park]
TRILLIAN:
There he is! Marvin!
ZAPHOD:
Marvin! Hey kid, are we pleased to see you.
MARVIN:
No you’re not, no one ever is.
ZAPHOD:
Suit yourself.
TRILLIAN:
No really Marvin, we are
ARTHUR:
Quite.
TRILLIAN:
Hanging, around waiting for us all this time!
MARVIN:
The first ten-million years were the worst. And the second ten-million - they were the worst too… The third ten-million, I didn’t enjoy at all. After that I went into a bit of a decline.
FORD:
Hey Zaphod, come and have a look at some of these neat star trolleys! Look at this baby, Zaphod. The tangerine star buggy with black sunbusters…
ZAPHOD:
Hey get this number! Multi-cluster quark drive, perspulex running-boards. This has got to be a Lazlar LyriKon Kustom job. Look! The infra-pink lizard emblem on the neutrino cowling.
FORD:
Oh yes! And I was passed by one of these mothers once out near the Axel Nebula. I was going flat out and this thing just strolled past me, star drive hardly ticking over, just incredible!
ZAPHOD:
Too much.
FORD:
Ten seconds later it smashed straight into the third moon of Jaglan Beta.
ZAPHOD:
Hey right?
FORD:
Yeah! But a great looking ship though. Looks like a fish, moves like a fish, steers like a cow.
ZAPHOD:
No kidding!
FORD:
No. Oh, wait a minute, wait a minute! That one there.
ZAPHOD:
Hey-yeah! Now that is really bad for the eyes!
FORD:
I mean it’s so black! You can hardly even make out its shape. Light just falls into it.
ZAPHOD:
And feel this surface.
FORD:
Yeah! … Hey, hey you can’t!
ZAPHOD:
See? It’s totally frictionless. Oh this must be one mother of a mover. I bet even the cigar lighter’s on photon drive, well whadda ya reckon Ford?
FORD:
What? You mean… stroll off with it? Do you think we should?
ZAPHOD:
No. Let’s do it.
FORD:
Okay.
ZAPHOD:
We better shift soon, in a few seconds the universe will end and all the captain creeps will be pouring down here to find their bourge-mobiles
FORD:
Zaphod.
ZAPHOD:
Yeah?
FORD:
How do we get into it?
ZAPHOD:
Just don’t spoil a beautiful idea will you Ford!?
FORD:
Perhaps the robot can figure something out.
ZAPHOD:
Yeah. Hey Marvin! Come on over we’ve got a job for you!
MARVIN:
I won’t enjoy it.
ZAPHOD:
Oh yes you will, there’s a whole new life stretching out in front of you!
MARVIN:
Oh, not another one.
ZAPHOD:
Will you shut up and listen? This time there’s gonna be excitement, and adventure, and really wild things!
MARVIN:
Sounds awful.
ZAPHOD:
Marvin! All I’m trying to say is -
MARVIN:
I suppose you want me to open this spaceship for you.
ZAPHOD:
Marvin! Just listen will you! What?
MARVIN:
I suppose you want me to open this spaceship for you.
ZAPHOD:
Oh, er, yeah, yeah, yeah, that… er… that’d be… er…
MARVIN:
Well I wish you’d just tell me rather than try an’ engage my enthusiasm because I haven’t got one.
[Spaceship door opens]
FORD:
Hey, how’d ya do that, Marvin?
MARVIN:
Didn’t I tell you? I’ve got a brain the size of the planet. No one ever listens to me of course.
ZAPHOD:
Shut up Marvin.
MARVIN:
See what I mean?
FORD:
Hey, Zaphod look at this! Look at the interior of this ship!
ZAPHOD:
Hey, weird!
FORD:
I mean it’s black, everything in it is just totally black!
Scene 4. Int. Milliway's
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
And now ladies and gentleman, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.
[Soft drum roll]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
The skies begin to boil.
[Louder drum roll]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Nature collapses into the screaming void.
[Louder drum roll]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
In five seconds time, the Universe itself will be… at an end.
[Drum roll]
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
See friends, see! Where the light of infinity bursts in upon us!
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah!
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Hunh?
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah!
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
What?… What’s happening here?
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah! Halll-e-lu-yah! Halll-e-lu-yah!
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
Who’s this?
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah!
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
I don’t believe it!
[Applause]
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah!
MAX QUORDLEPLEEN:
A big hand please, for the Great Prophet Zarquon.
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah! Halll-e-lu-yah!
ZARQUON:
Hello everybody.
CHOIR:
[Singing] Halll-e-lu-yah! Halll-e-lu-yah!
ZARQUON:
Sorry I’m a bit late, had a terrible time… All sort of things cropping up at the last moment. How are we for time? Umm -
[The universe explodes]
NARRATOR:
And so the universe ended. One of the major selling points of that wholly remarkable book, The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - apart from its relative cheapness and the fact that has the words “Don’t Panic” written in large, friendly letters on the cover - is its compendious and occasionally accurate, glossary. For instance, the statistics relating to the geo-social nature of the universe are all deftly set out between pages 576,324 and 576,326. The simplistic style is partly explained by the fact that its editors, having to meet a publishing deadline, copied the information off the back of a packet of breakfast cereal, hastily embroidering it with a few foot notes in order to avoid prosecution under the incomprehensibly torturous Galactic Copyright Laws. It’s interesting to note that a later and wilier editor sent the book backwards in time, through a temporal warp, and then successfully sued the breakfast cereal company for infringement of the same laws. Here is a sample in both Headings and footnotes.
The universe. Some information to help you live in it.
One: ‘Area’. Infinite. As far as anyone can make out
Two: ’Imports’. None. It’s impossible to import things into an infinite area, there being no outside to import things in from.
Three: ‘Exports’. None. See ’Imports’.
Four: ‘Rainfall’. None. Rain can not fall because in an infinite space there is no up for it to fall down from.
Five: ‘Population’. None. It is known that there are an infinite number of worlds, but that not everyone is inhabited. Therefore, there must be a finite number of inhabited worlds. Any finite number divided by infinity is as near to nothing as makes no odds. So, if every planet in the universe has a population of zero, then the entire population of the universe must also be zero, and any people you may actually meet from time to time are merely the products of a deranged imagination.
Six: ‘Monetary Units’. None. In fact, there are three freely convertible currencies in the universe, but the Altairian Dollar has recently collapsed, the Flainian Pobble Bead is only exchangeable for other Flainian Pobble Beads, and the Triganic Pu doesn’t really count as money. It’s exchange rate of six Ningis to one Pu is simple, but since a Ningi is a triangular rubber coin six-thousand, eight-hundred miles long each side, no one has ever collected enough to own one Pu. Niginis are not negotiable currency because the Galactic Banks refuse to deal in fiddling small change. From this Basic premise it’s very simple to prove that the Galactic Banks are also the products of a deranged imagination.
Seven. ‘Sex’. None. Well - actually, there is an awful lot of this. Largely because of the total lack of money, trade, banks, rainfall, or anything else that might keep all the nonexistent people in the universe occupied. However, it’s not worth embarking on a long discussion of it now, because it really is, terribly complicated. For further information See Chapters Seven, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Fourteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Nineteen, Twenty-One to Eighty-Four inclusive, and… most of the rest of the book. It’s largely, on the account of passages like this, that the book of The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ is being revised by Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent. Unfortunately, they are being presented with too many distractions to be able to settle down to doing any solid research. Not only does Arthur Dent still have to find the Question to the Ultimate Answer of Life, the Universe, and Everything, but the newly-stolen spaceship is currently behaving rather like this:
Scene 5. Int. Spaceship
[The sound of a spaceship in trouble. Under the noise we hear our heroes]
ARTHUR:
Basically what you’re trying to say is that you can’t control it.
FORD:
I’m not trying to say that, the whole bloody ship is!
ZAPHOD:
It’s the wild colour scheme that freaks me. I mean, when you try an’ operate one of these weird black controls which are labelled in black on a black background, a small black light lights up black to tell you you’ve done it. What is this? Some kind of intergalactic hyper-hearse?
TRILLIAN:
Well perhaps it is.
ARTHUR:
Isn’t there anyway you can control it? You’re making me feel space sick.
FORD:
Time sick. We’re plummeting backwards through time.
ARTHUR:
Oh god! Now I think I really am going to be ill.
ZAPHOD:
Go ahead, we could do with a little colour around the place.
TRILLIAN:
Oh for god’s sake Zaphod! Go easy will you? Already today we’ve had to sit through the end of the universe, and before that we were blasted five-hundred-and-seventy-six-thousand years through time by an exploding computer.
MARVIN:
It’s alright for you, I had to go the long way ‘round.
ARTHUR:
How did that happen anyway? How does an exploding computer push you through time?
MARVIN:
Very simple. It wasn’t a computer it was a hyper-spatial field generator.
ARTHUR:
Silly, I should have recognised it at once.
MARVIN:
As it overheated it blew a hole through the space-time continuum and you dropped through like a stone through a wet paper bag…. I hate wet paper bags.
TRILLIAN:
Hey, that sounds better! Have you managed to make some sense of the controls?
FORD:
No, we just stopped fiddling with them. I think this ship has a far better idea of where it’s going than we do.
ARTHUR:
Well that sounds quite sensible to me.
ZAPHOD:
What do you know about it ape-man?
ARTHUR:
Well Look! If whoever owns this ship travelled forward in time to The Restaurant at the End of the Universe then presumably he must have programmed the ship in advance to return him to the exact point he originally left. Doesn’t that make sense?
FORD:
That’s quite a good thought you know. Particularly if he was anticipating having a good time. Drunk in charge of a time ship is a pretty serious offence. They tend to lock you away in some planet’s stone age and tell you to evolve into a more responsible life-form.
TRILLIAN:
So there’s nothing to do but sit back and see where we turn up. Well what do we do in the meantime?
ARTHUR:
I’ve got a Pocket-Scrabble set.
ZAPHOD:
Go play with a nut.
ARTHUR:
Well if that’s your attitude!
ZAPHOD:
Hey look Earthman, you’ve got a job to do remember? The Question to the Ultimate Answer right? I mean there’s a lot of money tied up in that head thing of yours, I mean, just think of the merchandising: Ultimate Question T-shirts, Ultimate Question Biscuits…
ARTHUR:
Well, yes!
ARTHUR:
But where do we start?! I don’t know! The Ultimate Answer so-called is “Forty-Two”! Well what’s the question? How am I supposed to know?! Could be anything! I mean, “What’s six times seven?”
FORD, ZAPHOD and TRILLIAN:
Er… Forty-two!
ARTHUR:
Yes, I know that! I’m just saying the question could be anything! How should I know?
FORD:
Because you and Trillian are the last generation products of the Earth computer matrix, You must know!
MARVIN:
I know.
FORD:
Shut up, Marvin, this is organism talk.
MARVIN:
It’s printed in the Earthman’s brainwave patterns, but I don’t suppose you’ll be very interested in knowing that.
ARTHUR:
You mean you can see into my mind?
MARVIN:
Yes.
ARTHUR:
And?
MARVIN:
It amazes me how you manage to live in anything that small.
ARTHUR:
Ah. Abuse!
MARVIN:
Yes.
ZAPHOD:
Oh, ignore him, he’s only making it up.
MARVIN:
Making it up? What should I want to make anything up? Life’s bad enough as it is without wanting to invent any more of it.
TRILLIAN:
Marvin if you knew what it was all along why didn’t you tell us?
MARVIN:
You didn’t ask.
FORD:
Well we’re asking you now, metal-man, What’s the question!?
MARVIN:
The Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything?
FORD, ARTHUR, ZAPHOD and TRILLIAN:
MARVIN:
To which the answer is forty-two?
FORD, ZAPHOD and TRILLIAN:
MARVIN:
I can tell that you’re not really interested.
FORD:
Will you just tell us you motorised maniac!?
[Electronic noise]
ARTHUR:
Oh, look the control panel’s lighting up! We must’ve arrived!
ZAPHOD:
Hey yeah, we’ve zapped back into real space.
MARVIN:
I knew you weren’t really interested.
FORD:
The controls won’t respond. It’s still going its own way. Isn’t there anyway we can introduce this ship to the concept of democracy?!
TRILLIAN:
Can we at least find out where we are?
ARTHUR:
The vision screens are all blank, can’t we turn them on?
FORD:
They are on.
ARTHUR:
Why can’t we see any stars?
ZAPHOD:
Hey, ya know, I think we must be outside the galaxy.
FORD:
We’re picking up speed! We’re heading out into intergalactic space! Arthur, check out the rear screens will you?
TRILLIAN:
I feel cold, all alone in this infinite void.
ARTHUR:
Apart from the fleet of black battle cruisers behind us.
TRILLIAN:
What?
FORD:
What fleet?
ZAPHOD:
Uhmmm, er, which, er, particular fleet of black battle cruisers is that Earthman?
ARTHUR:
Oh! The ones on the rear screens. Sorry, I though you’d noticed them. There are about a hundred-thousand. Is that wrong?
MARVIN:
No. What do you expect if you steal the flagship of an admiral of the space fleet?
ZAPHOD:
Marvin! W-what makes you think this is an admiral’s flagship?
MARVIN:
I know it is, I parked it for him.
ZAPHOD:
[Yells] Then why the planet of hell didn’t you tell us?!
MARVIN:
You didn’t ask.
FORD:
You know what we’ve done? We’ve dropped ourselves into the vanguard of a major intergalactic war.
{Dramatic cord}
NARRATOR:
Will our heroes ever have a chance to find out what the Ultimate Question is? Will they be too busy dealing with a hundred thousand horribly beweaponed battle cruisers to have a chance to have a sympathetic chat with Marvin, the paranoid android? Will they eventually have to settle down and lead normal lives as account executives or management consultants? Will life ever be the same again after next week’s last and - reasonably exciting - instalment of ’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’?
ANNOUNCER:
In that episode of ’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’, Peter Jones was The Book. Anthony Sharp was Garkbit the Waiter and Zarquon the Prophet; and Roy Hudd, Compeer at The Restaurant at the End of the Universe. With Simon Jones, Arthur Dent; Geoffrey McGivern, Ford Prefect; Mark Wing-Davey, Zaphod Beeblebrox; Susan Sheridan, Trillian; and Stephen Moore, Marvin. The program was written by Douglas Adams and John Lloyd, and produced by Geoffrey Perkins, with the assistance of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop. If you would like a copy of the book, ’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’, please write to Megadodo Publications, Megadodo House, Ursa Minor. Enclosing three pounds, ninety-five for the book plus five-hundred-and-ninety-seven-million, eight-hundred-and-twelve-thousand, four-hundred-and-six pounds, seven-p, postage and packing.
Fit The Sixth
NARRATOR:
The history of every major galactic civilisation has passed through three distinct and recognisable phases: those of survival, inquiry, and sophistication. Otherwise known as the ‘How’, ‘Why’, and ‘Where’ phases. For instance, the first phase is characterised by the question: “How can we eat?” The second by the question: “Why do we eat?” And the third by the question: “Where should we have lunch?” The history of warfare is similarly subdivided though here the phases are retribution, anticipation, and diplomacy. Thus, retribution: “I’m going to kill you because you killed my brother.” Anticipation: “I’m going to kill you because I killed your brother.” And diplomacy: “I’m going to kill my brother and then kill you on the pretext that your brother did it.” Meanwhile, the Earthman Arthur Dent, to whom all this can be of only academic interest, as his only brother was long ago nibbled to death by an okapi, is about to be plunged into a real intergalactic war. This is largely because the spaceship that he and his companions have inadvertently stolen from The Restaurant at the End of the Universe has now returned itself on autopilot to its rightful time and place. Its rightful time is immediately prior to a massive invasion of an entire alien galaxy, and its rightful place is at the head of a fleet of one-hundred thousand black battle cruisers. This is why:
Scene 1. Int. Spaceship
ARTHUR:
You mean this ship we’ve stolen is the Admiral’s flagship?
FORD:
That’s the way it’s looking. Perhaps we should just ask them if they want it back. You know, if we were reasonably polite about it -
ZAPHOD:
They might just let us off with being lightly killed.
FORD:
Yeah, well, at least it’s better than, ooh, than er…
ZAPHOD:
It isn’t better than anything at all, is it?!
FORD:
Er, no.
TRILLIAN:
Hey that visiscreen is beginning to flicker!
ZAPHOD:
Hey, it must be some guy wanting orders. Aww! Fetched photons!
FORD:
Well, now, now just order him to go away. Y- you’ll just have to bluff it out, Zaphod.
ZAPHOD:
I’ll just have to “bluff it out”?!
FORD:
Yeah! Now sit down, and do something
ARTHUR:
Say something!
TRILLIAN:
Anything!
FORD:
Now don’t worry, we’ll be right behind you, hiding.
[The visiscreen activates]
ZAPHOD:
Ford, this is your idea isn’t it?
FORD:
Yeah. Now sit down there and be a star.
ZAPHOD:
Hey when I’m a star I’ll hire a better ideas man.
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
Haggunenon Under Fleet Commander reporting from Vice Flagship
ZAPHOD:
Oh, uh hi, uh Under Fleet Commandant Adadida, I um…
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
Good Evening Admiral.
ZAPHOD:
Hi. What?
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
I trust you had a pleasant meal?
ZAPHOD:
Uh, wha-what? Ohhhh, er, er, yeah, yeah. Mmm, it was fine, er, thanks.
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
Delighted to hear that sir. We are now in battle readiness state and all deployed to your rear in line of stride, seven minutes from target galaxy, and awaiting your orders.
ZAPHOD:
Great, great! Er, Fine. Well, er, er, you know, er, keep in touch, um, Under, er, First Commandant.
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
Thank you sir. Oh and sir?
ZAPHOD:
Uh, yes?
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
I like your outfit sir.
ZAPHOD:
Oh, uh, …
[Screen shuts off]
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, hmm, fine.
TRILLIAN:
Wow, that’s amazing Zaphod.
ZAPHOD:
Hey that is just too weird.
ARTHUR:
He actually thought you were the admiral!
TRILLIAN:
You did it!
FORD:
Cool, Really Cool Zaphod! Actually pretending to be the admiral!
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, yeah terrific. Now listen you dumb space cookie, I wasn’t pretending to be the admiral for some weird reason he just assumed I was!
ARTHUR:
Well perhaps you look like him or something.
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, well not if he looks like anything like his second-in-command, monkey man!
TRILLIAN:
Well what did he look like?
FORD:
Well, how
ARTHUR:
What was he?
ZAPHOD:
Well he was, he was a big leopard, okay? You know: with, with, y’know, the er, the, er, sunglasses, the in-flight casual spacesuit split to the navel… brown beach loafers… you know the whole bit!
ARTHUR:
How could he think you were the admiral?
FORD:
Well maybe leopards just have a lousy memory for faces.
ZAPHOD:
Hilarious.
TRILLIAN:
No, it must be simpler than that; there’s obviously something wrong with the visiscreen. I’ll have a look at it.
ZAPHOD:
You heard what the big cat said, he said he liked my outfit - so he must have seen me.
FORD:
Ah, maybe you just didn’t have any taste.
TRILLIAN:
Hey! The screen’s coming on again!
[The visiscreen activates]
FORD:
Zaphod! Get, get back in that seat. Tri-Trillian! Trillian
TRILLIAN:
Too late! Get back all of you!
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
Under Fleet Commandant reporting
TRILLIAN:
Hello.
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
Battle state reset and six minutes from target galaxy. Oh, and er, Admiral?
TRILLIAN:
Y- yes?
HAGGUNENNON UNDER FLEET COMMANDER:
I really like the gear - even better than last time.
TRILLIAN:
Ohh! Thanks.
[The visiscreen deactivates]
ZAPHOD:
Wowee! Weirder and weirder!
TRILLIAN:
Good god!
ARTHUR:
What is it Trillian?
TRILLIAN:
Did you see that? I thought you said he was a leopard!
ARTHUR:
He sounded different.
FORD:
Did he look different?
TRILLIAN:
Well he wasn’t so much a leopard, more of a sort of, er, sort of…
ARTHUR:
What?
TRILLIAN:
You know. Shoebox.
ARTHUR:
A shoebox?!
TRILLIAN:
Full of, well, size-nine chukka boots.
ARTHUR:
A shoebox full of size-nine chukka boots!?
ZAPHOD:
Alright chimp-man, whadda ya think this is? Dictation?
ARTHUR:
I just wondered how she knew they were size-nine!
FORD:
Trillian, are you seriously telling us you’ve been talking to a box of shoes?
TRILLIAN:
Yes.
FORD:
And he -
ZAPHOD:
She.
ARTHUR:
It.
TRILLIAN:
They.
FORD:
…thought that you also were the admiral?
TRILLIAN:
Well you heard it.
ZAPHOD:
What are they? Clinically thick?
FORD:
I think they’re very clever, they’re trying to confuse us to death.
MARVIN:
I don’t think they’re very clever. There’s only one person as intelligent as me within thirteen parsecs of here and that’s me.
ZAPHOD:
Okay Marvin, is there anything that you can tell us?
MARVIN:
Yes, I’ve got this terrible pain in all the diodes down my left side.
ARTHUR:
What was the name the second in command said? Haggunennon? Why don’t we look it up in the Book?
TRILLIAN:
What book?
ARTHUR:
’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’.
ZAPHOD:
Oh that hack rag.
[The Book activates]
THE BOOK:
The Haggunennons of Azizatus Three have the most impatient chromosomes of any life-forms in the galaxy. Where as most races are content to evolve slowly and carefully over thousands of generations - discarding a prehensile toe here, nervously hazarding another nostril there, the Haggunennons would do for Charles Darwin what a squadron of Arcturan Stunt-Apples would have done for Sir Isaac Newton. Their genetic structure, based on the quadruple-striated octo-helix, is so chronically unstable, that far from passing their basic shape onto their children, they will quite frequently evolve several times over lunch. But they do this with such reckless abandon that if, sitting at table, they are unable to reach a coffee spoon, they are liable without a moments consideration to mutate into something with far longer arms - but which is probably quite incapable of drinking the coffee. This, not unnaturally, produces a terrible sense of personal insecurity and a jealous resentment of all stable life-forms, or “filthy rotten stinking samelings” as they call them. They justify this by claiming that as they have personally experienced what it is like to be virtually everybody else they can think of, they are in a very good position to appreciate all their worst points. This appreciation is usually military in nature and is carried out with unmitigated savagery from the gunrooms of their horribly beweaponed, chameleoid death flotilla. Experience has shown that the most effective way of dealing with any Haggunennon you may meet is to run away… terribly fast.
Scene 2. Int. Spaceship
FORD:
Great!
ARTHUR:
Terrific!
TRILLIAN:
Thanks a million, Zaphod.
ZAPHOD:
Well, hey don’t look at me. I mean -
TRILLIAN:
What do we do?
FORD:
The Book says run away.
ZAPHOD:
Uhh, how do we get the automatic pilot on our side.? Box of choccies and some sweet talk? Any ideas, Marvin?
MARVIN:
If I were you I’d be very depressed.
ZAPHOD:
Earthman?
ARTHUR:
I go a long with Marvin.
ZAPHOD:
Ford?
FORD:
Well, I always find that the prospect of death contracts the mind wonderfully.
TRILLIAN:
Ya know, I’ve just thought: there is a chance.
ARTHUR:
What a chance? As far as I can see you might as well lower haystacks off the boat deck of The Lusitania!
TRILLIAN:
No, no, think about it. The second-in-command assumed that the admiral, Zaphod, and I were the same person not because we looked similar, but because we looked completely different!
FORD:
Hey! Y- yes!
TRILLIAN:
So if…
FORD:
Right! Right! I’m with you. If the second-in-command can be a shoebox, the admiral can be anything. A- a paraffin stove, a- a water bison, an anaconda…
ZAPHOD:
Terrr-rific! I’ll root around for the water bison. Trillian you see if you can find the jar the admiral keeps his anacondas in.
FORD:
Look, can it Zaphod! It could quite easily be something mundane: er, a screwdriver, that cord of wire, the chair itself!
ZAPHOD:
Yeah. Hey, you know that’s a really neat chair - could’ve been made for me. It’s got the two headrests, dig?
FORD:
What tho- those two great furry things?
ZAPHOD:
Yeah.
FORD:
Oh, they look ridiculous.
TRILLIAN:
It was very uncomfortable. I prefer something with far longer arms.
ARTHUR:
But which is probably quite incapable of drinking coffee!
ZAPHOD:
Hey, errrr, what did you say, Earthman?
TRILLIAN:
Did you say headrests Zaphod? They look a lot like eyebrows to me.
ZAPHOD:
That chair is scratching its leg.
TRILLIAN:
It’s just been asleep all this time.
FORD:
Arthur! For god’s sake get back here quick!
ZAPHOD:
Yeah stand up when you sit on the admiral, primate!
TRILLIAN:
It’s moving! Look, it’s starting to evolve!
[A loud roar]
ZAPHOD:
[Screams]
FORD:
Eat your heart out Galapagos Islands.
ZAPHOD:
G-force you know what that is?
TRILLIAN:
Let me guess, terrible! Am I wrong?
[Another loud roar]
ZAPHOD:
It’s a carbon copy of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal - or I’m a Vogon’s Grandmother!
ARTHUR:
The Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal! Is it safe?
[Sound of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal salivating]
FORD:
Oh Yes! It’s perfectly safe - it’s just us who are in trouble. If that’s the admiral and he still wants his coffee it ain’t sponge fingers he’s gonna dunk in it.
[A loud roar]
ZAPHOD:
Wuuahhhhhhhh!
TRILLIAN:
Ford! Throw some furniture at it!
FORD:
What do I do?! Pick up this table by the ears?
ARTHUR:
[Shouts]Oh god, the whole place is coming alive!
[We hear the contents of the spaceship slowly waking up…]
ZAPHOD:
Yeah, and we’re coming dead!
TRILLIAN:
These ashtrays! Just turned into a jar full of anacondas!
ZAPHOD:
Just- just tell it we’ll let them know!
TRILLIAN:
Ah! Urgh!
FORD:
Get off me you filthy sofa!
ARTHUR:
God! And I thought Time’s Furnishing was a riffing!
ZAPHOD:
[Shouts]
FORD:
Arthur and I’ll take this one! Zaphod you and the others take the left-hand one!
ZAPHOD:
Right!
[Over the roaring we hear the escape capsule opening]
FORD:
Press the go start Arthur.
[The escape capsule leaves the ship]
Scene 3. Int. Escape Capsule
ARTHUR:
Phew! Safe. Oh! Oh! Hey, Ford, look! The other capsule’s missing! The chute’s empty! Someone else must’ve used that capsule! The others are trapped!
FORD:
Well it’s too late Arthur we can’t help them. This capsule won’t turn back.
ARTHUR:
What happens if I press this button here?
FORD:
Don’t!
[Noise of Phargilor Kangaroo Relocation Drive engaging]
FORD:
Fortunately for Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent, their capsule was fitted with latest in instant space travel: the Phargilor Kangaroo Relocation Drive - by which a ship may be ejected suddenly through the fabric of the space-time continuum and come to rest far from its starting point. This is, however, an emergency device and there is rarely time to plot where the ship will land. Meanwhile, this is what happened to Zaphod, Trillian, and Marvin:
Scene 4. Int. Spaceship
[Ferocious roaring]
TRILLIAN:
[Yells]
ZAPHOD:
Oh! No. No! Get off!
TRILLIAN:
Look out!
[More ferocious roaring]
MARVIN:
Ouch.
TRILLIAN:
[Screams]
[Even more ferocious roaring]
ZAPHOD:
Keep off! Ugh! Uhhh!
MARVIN:
Oh no. Dear, dear, dear, my arm’s come off.
TRILLIAN:
[Puffing with exertion] He’s got us! Urgh!
[The Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal begins advancing on them]
TRILLIAN:
If ever I survive this [Pant] I’ll get a job as Moby Dick’s dentist
ZAPHOD:
Urgh! Wh! Ge-
[More eating]
ZAPHOD:
Can it Trillian, I’m trying to die with dignit-eeeeee!
TRILLIAN:
Urghh!
MARVIN:
I’m just trying to die.
TRILLIAN:
Urgh-huh-huh!
ZAPHOD:
[Yells]
[The Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal begins eating them]
ZAPHOD:
No problem! Pas de problème!
MARVIN:
Ah... the ennui is overpowering.
[The Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal swallows and burps]
NARRATOR:
And this is what happened to Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect:
Scene 5. Int. Escape Capsule
[Noise of Phargilor Kangaroo Relocation Drive disengaging]
ARTHUR:
Are we in normal space?
FORD:
No. I think we’ve materialised inside another spaceship.
ARTHUR:
More problems.
FORD:
Well, we’ll see.
[Sound of scanners checking]
FORD:
Atmosphere’s ok. Le-Let’s get out and have a look.
[Hatch opens]
ARTHUR:
Ford?
FORD:
Yeah?
ARTHUR:
What about the others?
FORD:
Arthur, you’ll have to learn it’s a convention in all space-travelling species that if have to ditch someone, you know - a friend, and there’s nothing you can do, you just let it be. You don’t talk about them, Okay?
ARTHUR:
What, really?
FORD:
And then we get blind drunk about them later.
ARTHUR:
I think there must be something terribly wrong with the universe you know.
FORD:
I think there must be something terribly wrong with this ship!
ARTHUR:
Yes, it looks like a mausoleum.
FORD:
That’s it! Yes you’re right! The place is full of sarcophagi as far as the eye can see! Wild!
ARTHUR:
What’s so great about dead people?
FORD:
Well I don’t know. Let’s have a look. Here! Here. There’s a plaque on this one.
ARTHUR:
What does it say?
FORD:
”Golgafrincham Ark Fleet. Ship B. Hold Seven: Telephone Sanitizers, Second Class.” And a serial number!
ARTHUR:
”Telephone Sanitizer”? A dead telephone sanitizer?
FORD:
Best kind.
ARTHUR:
Well what’s he doing here?
FORD:
Not a lot.
ARTHUR:
No! - but I mean why? Good god! This one’s a dead hairdresser.
FORD:
And this one here’s an advertising account executive.
ARTHUR:
Are these really coffins? They’re terribly cold.
NUMBER TWO:
Alright! Hold it right there!
ARTHUR:
Why isn’t anyone ever pleased to see us?
Scene 6. Int. B Ark. Bridge
CAPTAIN:
[Humming]
NUMBER ONE:
Ummm. Er, Captain.?
CAPTAIN:
Oh. Yes, Number One?
NUMBER ONE:
I- I just had a sort of umm, report-thing from Number Two.
CAPTAIN:
Oh dear.
NUMBER ONE:
He was shouting something or other about having found some prisoners.
CAPTAIN:
Oh well! Perhaps that’ll keep ‘im happy for a bit. Heh, he’s always wanted some.
NUMBER ONE:
Oh, oh….
[Door opens]
NUMBER TWO:
Captain sir.
CAPTAIN:
Ah! Hel-lo Number Two. Having a nice day?
NUMBER TWO:
I brought you the prisoners I located in Freezer Bay Seven sir.
FORD:
Hello.
ARTHUR:
Er, Hello.
CAPTAIN:
Oh Hello! Excuse me not getting up - just having a quick bath. Well! Um, gin-and-tonics all round then. Uh, look in the fridge will you Number One?
NUMBER ONE:
Certainly, certainly sir.
NUMBER TWO:
Don’t you want to interrogate the prisoners, sir?
CAPTAIN:
Dear oh dear, why on Earth should I want to do that?
NUMBER TWO:
Well to get information out of them sir. They are my prisoners, can’t I just interrogate them - a little bit?
CAPTAIN:
Oh, all right, if you must. Ask them what they want to drink.
NUMBER TWO:
Oh thank you sir. [Shouts] All right! You scum! You vermin!
CAPTAIN:
I say, steady on Number Two.
NUMBER TWO:
Oh very good sir. Whaddya you want to drink?!
FORD:
Well, uh, the gin-and-tonic sounds very nice to me. Arthur?
ARTHUR:
What? Oh yes..
NUMBER TWO:
With ice or without?
FORD:
Oh, with please.
NUMBER TWO:
Lemon?
FORD:
Er, yes please. And do you have any of those little biscuits? You know the cheesy ones?
NUMBER TWO:
I’m asking the questions!
CAPTAIN:
Ye-ah… Number Two… Number Two.
NUMBER TWO:
Sir?
CAPTAIN:
Push off would you, there’s a good chap. I’m trying to have a relaxing bath.
NUMBER TWO:
Sir. May I remind you that you have now been in that bath for over three years?
CAPTAIN:
Yes. Well, you need to relax a lot in a job like mine.
ARTHUR:
What on Earth’s going on?
FORD:
Could I actually ask you, er, what your job is, in fact?
NUMBER ONE:
Er, er, your drinks.
FORD:
Oh, thanks
ARTHUR:
Thanks.
FORD:
I mean couldn’t help noticing, you know, the bodies.
CAPTAIN:
Bodies?
FORD:
All those dead telephone sanitizers and account executives, you know, in, in the hold.
CAPTAIN:
Oh! They’re not dead! Good Lord, No, no. They’re just frozen - they’re going to be revived.
ARTHUR:
You really mean you’ve got a hold full of frozen hairdressers?
CAPTAIN:
Oh yes. Millions of them! Hairdressers, tired T.V. producers, insurance salesmen, personnel officers…
NUMBER TWO:
Security guards…
NUMBER ONE:
Management consultants…
CAPTAIN:
Yes, well, you name it and we’ve got it!
NUMBER ONE:
We certainly have yes!
NUMBER TWO:
[Laughs]
CAPTAIN:
We’re going to colonise another planet!
ARTHUR:
What!?
NUMBER TWO:
Oh, yes, yes, yes.
CAPTAIN:
It’s exciting, isn’t, eh?
ARTHUR:
What, with that lot?
CAPTAIN:
Yeah - oh don’t misunderstand me, we’re just one of the ships in the Ark Fleet. You see We’re the B Ark, you see. Uh, sorry, could I just ask you two to run a bit more hot water for me?
[The taps run water]
CAPTAIN:
Ah yes. Do help yourself to more drinks would you?
FORD:
Oh, thanks.
ARTHUR:
What’s a “B Ark”?
CAPTAIN:
What? Oh, well! What happened you see, was our planet was doomed.
ARTHUR:
Doomed?
CAPTAIN:
Oh yes. So what everyone thought was, well let’s pack the whole population in some sort of giant spaceship, you see, and go and settle on another planet!
ARTHUR:
You mean a less-doomed one?
CAPTAIN:
Oh precisely yes. So it was decided to build three ships, three Arks in space, anyway…where’s the soap? Ah! Thank you. Ah! So the idea was that into the first ship, the A Ship, would go all the brilliant leaders…
NUMBER ONE:
The scientists…
CAPTAIN:
Yes, the great artists, you know, all the achievers. And then, into the third ship, the C Ship, would go all the people who did the actual work; who made things and did things you see. And then in the B Ship -
NUMBER ONE:
That’s us.
CAPTAIN:
Yes. Would go everyone else, the middlemen you see. And so we were sent off first.
ARTHUR:
But what was wrong with your planet?
CAPTAIN:
Well it was doomed - as I said. Apparently it was going to crash into the sun. Or was it the moon that was going to crash into us?
NUMBER ONE:
No, no, I thought it was that the planet was more or less bound to be invaded by a gigantic swarm of twelve-foot piranha bees.
NUMBER TWO:
No, no, no. That’s not what I was told! My commanding officer swore blind that the entire planet was in emanate danger of being eaten by an enormous mutant star goat.
FORD:
Oh really, really?
NUMBER TWO:
Yes, but he was just hoping that the ship he was going in would be ready in time.
ARTHUR:
But they made sure that they sent all you lot off first anyway?
CAPTAIN:
Oh yes, everyone said, and very nicely I think -
NUMBER ONE:
Oh yes sir. Absolutely charming.
CAPTAIN:
That it was very important for moral to feel that they would be arriving on a planet where they could be sure of a good haircut and where the phones were clean.
FORD:
Oh yes! Well I- I can see that would be very important.
ARTHUR:
Can you?!
FORD:
[Now trying very hard not to laugh]Sh-shh Arthur. And er, the, the other ships followed on after you did they?
CAPTAIN:
Ah! Well, it’s funny you should mention that…
NUMBER TWO:
Yes, yes isn’t it?
NUMBER ONE:
Yes.
CAPTAIN:
Because curiously enough, we haven’t actually heard a peep out of them since we left
NUMBER ONE:
No.
CAPTAIN:
But they must be behind us somewhere.
FORD:
Unless, of course, they were eaten by the goat.
CAPTAIN:
Ah! Yes… the goat… Hmm, it’s a funny thing you know. Now that I’ve actually come to tell the story to someone else, I mean - doesn’t it strike you as odd Number One?
NUMBER ONE:
Well sir, er…
CAPTAIN:
Huh?
NUMBER ONE:
Ah…
CAPTAIN:
Ah…
NUMBER ONE:
Mmmh…
CAPTAIN:
Mmmh…
NUMBER ONE:
Oh…
CAPTAIN:
Oh…
FORD:
Well, I can see that you’ve got a lot of things you’re gonna want to talk about, so thanks for the drinks and if you could sort of drop us off and the nearest, convenient planet..?
CAPTAIN:
Ah well, that’s a little difficult you see because our trajectory- thingy, was preset before we left Golgafrincham.
FORD:
When are you gonna reach the planet you’re meant to be colonising?
CAPTAIN:
Oh, well we nearly there!… I think… yes. Any second now. Well it’s probably time I got out of the bath in fact. Ha ha. Oh… I don’t know though… why stop just when you’re enjoying it, you know I always say…
ARTHUR:
So we’re actually going to land in a minute?
CAPTAIN:
Well not, not, not so much land in fact, I think as far as I can remember we’re programmed to, er crash on it.
ARTHUR and FORD:
”Crash”?
CAPTAIN:
Yes. It’s all part of the plan. … I think. There was terribly good reason for it which I can’t… quite… remember at the moment.
FORD:
[Yells in exasperation] You’re a load of useless, bloody loonies!!
CAPTAIN:
Ah, yes, that was it, that was reason it was. Ha. Pass me the loofah will you?
[The ship crash lands]
NARRATOR:
’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ has this to say about the planet of Golgafrincham: It is a planet with an ancient and mysterious history, in which the most mysterious figures of all are, without doubt, those of the Great Circling poets of Arium. These Circling Poets used to live in remote mountain passes where they would lie and wait for small bands of unwary travellers, circle round them, and throw rocks at them. And when the travellers cried out saying ‘why didn’t they go away and get on with writing some poems instead of pestering people with all this rock-throwing business,’ they would suddenly break off and sing them an incredibly long and beautiful song - in which they told of how there once went forth, from the City of Vassillian, a party of five sage princes with four horses. The first part of the song tells how these five sage princes - who are, of course, brave, noble, and wise - travel widely in distant lands, fight giant ogres, pursue exotic philosophies, take tea with weird gods, and rescue beautiful monsters from ravening princesses, before finally announcing that they have achieved enlightenment and that their wanderings are therefore accomplished. The second, and much longer part, tells of all their bickerings about which one of them is going to have to walk back. It was, of course, a descendent of these eccentric poets who invented this curious tale of impending doom which enabled the people of Golgafrincham to rid themselves of an entire useless third of their population. The other two-thirds, of course, stayed at home and lived full, rich, and happy lives until they were all suddenly wiped out by a virulent disease contracted from a dirty telephone. Meanwhile, Arthur Dent, Ford Prefect, and an Ark-load of frozen middle management men have crashed into the prehistoric dawn of a small, blue-green planet circling an unregarded yellow sun at the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral Arm of the Galaxy. After a year or so they convene a meeting to consider their position, which is not, on the whole, good…
Scene 7. Ext. Prehistoric Planet
FORD:
You don’t seem to understand…
MAN IN CROWD:
No, no, no I just -
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
It’s a simple matter! It’s a procedural matter! That’s the point!
CAPTAIN:
Alright, alright, alright, alright!
CHAIRMAN:
I’d like to call this meeting to some sort of order, if that is at all possible.
CROWD MEMBER:
Care for a light drink sir?
CHAIRMAN:
Uh, not now love…
FORD:
Look! C’mon please! I mean everybody! there is some important news: we’ve made a discovery.
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Is it on the agenda?
FORD:
Oh don’t give me that!
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Well I’m sorry, but speaking as a fully trained management consultant I must insist on the importance of observing the committee structure.
CROWD MEMBERS:
Yeah, yeah, yeah!.
FORD:
On a prehistoric planet!?
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Address the chair.
CROWD MEMBERS:
Yes.
FORD:
There isn’t a chair! There’s only a rock!
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Well, call it a chair.
FORD:
Why not call it a rock?
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
You - you obviously have no conception of modern business methods…
FORD:
And you have no conception of where the hell you are -
MARKETING GIRL:
Oh look shut up you two, just shut up! I want to table a motion. Guy: Boulder a motion you mean…
FORD:
Tha-Thank you I think I’ve made that point! Now listen! Someone: Order, Order!
FORD:
Oh God!
CHAIRMAN:
Listen! I would like to call to order the five-hundred-and-seventy-third meeting of the colonization committee of the planet of Fintlewoodlewix. And furthermore -
FORD:
Oh this is futile! Five-hundred-and-seventy-three committee meetings and you haven’t even discovered fire yet!
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
If you would care to look at the agenda sheet -
GUY:
Agenda rock, yes…
FORD:
Oh, go on back home or something will ya?
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
…you will see that we are about to have a report from the hairdressers fire development subcommittee today.
HAIRDRESSER:
That’s me.
FORD:
Yeah well you know what they’ve done don’t you? You gave them a couple of sticks and they’ve gone and developed them in to a pair of bloody scissors!
MARKETING GIRL:
When you have been in marketing as long as I have, you’ll know that before any new product can be developed, it has to be properly researched. I mean yes, yes we’ve got to find out what people want from fire, I mean how do they relate to it, the image -
FORD:
Oh, stick it up your nose.
MARKETING GIRL:
Yes which is precisely the sort of thing we need to know, I mean do people want fire that can be fitted nasally.
CHAIRMAN:
Yes, and, and, and the wheel. What about this wheel thingy? Sounds a terribly interesting project to me.
MARKETING GIRL:
Er, yeah, well we’re having a little, er, difficulty here…
FORD:
Difficulty?! It’s the single simplest machine in the entire universe!
MARKETING GIRL:
Well alright mister wise guy, if you’re so clever you tell us what colour it should be!
FORD:
Oh Mighty Zarquon! Has no-one done anything?
MARKETING GIRL:
And of course Finlon the producer has rescued a camera from the wreckage of the ship and is making a fascinating documentary on the indigenous cavemen of the area.
FORD:
Oh yes, and they’re dying out, have you noticed that?
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Yes we must make a note sir to stop selling them life insurance.
FORD:
But don’t you understand? Just since we’ve arrived they’ve started dying out.
MARKETING GIRL:
Yes! Yes! And this comes over terribly well in the film that he’s making. I gather that he wants to, eh, make a documentary about you next captain.
CAPTAIN:
What? Oh. Oh really? That’s awfully nice.
MARKETING GIRL:
Oh, he’s got a very strong angle on it: you know the burden of responsibility, the loneliness of command…
CAPTAIN:
Ah well I wouldn’t overstress that angle you know, I mean one’s never alone with a rubber duck…
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Er, sir, er, skipper?
CAPTAIN:
Want a squeeze, eh?
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Um listen, if we could, er, for a moment move on to the subject of fiscal policy -
FORD:
”Fiscal Policy”?!
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Yes.
FORD:
How can you have money if none of you actually produce anything? It doesn’t grow on trees you know!
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
You know If you would allow me to continue!
CAPTAIN:
Yes let him to continue.
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
Since we decided a few weeks ago to adopt leaves as legal tender, we have, of course all become immensely rich.
FORD:
No really? Really?
CROWD MEMBERS:
Yes, very good move…
MANAGEMENT CONSULTANT:
But, we have also run into a small inflation problem on account of the high level of leaf availability. Which means that I gather the current going rate has something like three major deciduous forests buying one ship’s peanut. So, um, in order to obviate this problem and effectively revalue the leaf, we are about to embark on an extensive defoliation campaign, and um, burn down all the forests. I think that’s a sensible move don’t you?
MARKETING GIRL:
That makes economic sense.
[Murmurs of agreement from crowd]
FORD:
[Yells] You’re absolutely barmy! You’ve a bunch of raving nutters!
MARKETING GIRL:
Well is it - perhaps - in order to inquire what you have been doing all this time, huh?
CROWD MEMBERS:
Yes!
MARKETING GIRL:
Yes, you and that other interloper have been missing for months.
FORD:
Well, with respect love, we have been travelling around trying to find out about this planet.
MARKETING GIRL:
Well, that doesn’t sound very productive. I mean I’ve looked -
FORD:
Well I have got news, I have got news for you. It doesn’t matter a pair feted dingo’s kidneys what you all choose to do from now on. Burn down the forests, anything. It won’t make a scrap of difference. Two-million years you’ve got, and that’s it. At the end of that, your race will be dead, gone, and good-riddance to you. Remember that. Two. Million. Years.
CAPTAIN:
Ah. It’s time for another bath. Hmph. Pass me the sponge somebody will you?
Scene 8. Ext. Clearing on Prehistoric Planet
ARTHUR:
No. ‘Q’ scores ten you see? And it’s on a ‘Triple Word Score’, so -
CAVEMAN:
Ugh, Ugh, Ugh, Ugh!
ARTHUR:
I’m sorry, but I explained the rules!
CAVEMAN:
Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh!
ARTHUR:
No! No! Look, please put down that jawbone!
CAVEMAN:
Ugh, mmh, mmh.
ARTHUR:
All right, we’ll start again. Now try to concentrate this time.
CAVEMAN:
Ugh.
FORD:
Oh what are you doing Arthur?
ARTHUR:
Trying to teach the caveman to play ‘Scrabble’. It’s uphill work. The only word they know is “grunt” and they can’t spell it.
FORD:
And would you please tell me what that is supposed to achieve?
ARTHUR:
We’ve got to encourage them to evolve Ford! Can you imagine what a world is going to be like that descends from those cretins over there?!
FORD:
We don’t have to imagine. Let’s face it, we already know what it’s like. We’ve seen it. There’s no escape.
ARTHUR:
Did you tell them what we discovered?
FORD:
Slartibartfast’s signature on the glacier? No. W- what’s the point? Why should they listen? What’s it to them that this place happens to be called the Earth?
ARTHUR:
And that it happens to be my original home!
FORD:
Yeah but you won’t even be born for nearly two-million years! So they’re likely to feel that it’s not a lot of your business. I mean, face up to it Arthur, those zeebs over there are your ancestors, not these cavemen. Put the ‘Scrabble’ away, it won’t save the Human race, because Mr. Ugh here is not destined to be the human race. The human race is currently sitting ‘round that rock over there, making documentaries about themselves.
ARTHUR:
But there must be something we can do!
FORD:
No! Nothing. Really, nothing! Because it’s all been done. I mean listen, we’ve been backwards and forwards through time and ended up here: two-million years behind where we started. But that doesn’t change the future, because we’ve seen it! I mean wise up kid, there’s nothing you can do to change it because it’s already happened.
ARTHUR:
And all because we arrived here with the Golgafrinchams in their B Ark?
FORD:
Yes.
CAVEMAN:
Ugh-um
ARTHUR:
Poor bloody caveman. It’s all been a bit of a waste of time for you, hasn’t it?
CAVEMAN:
Ugh.
ARTHUR:
You’ve been out-evolved by a telephone sanitizer.
CAVEMAN:
Abh, Ugh, uh, ugh, umph.
FORD:
He’s pointing to the ‘Scrabble’ board.
ARTHUR:
Pointing to the ‘Scrabble’ board… Well he’s probably spelled “library” with one “R” again, poor bastard.
FORD:
No he hasn’t!
ARTHUR:
Hey, no, look! It says “forty-two”. The experiment! It’s something to do with the computer program to find the Ultimate Question!!
FORD:
Hey! You know what this means, don’t you?
ARTHUR:
What?
FORD:
It must’ve gone wrong! If the computer matrix was set of to follow the evolution of the human race through from the cavemen, and then we’ve arrived and caused them to die out…
ARTHUR:
And actually replaced them…
FORD:
…then the whole thing is cocked up.
ARTHUR:
So whatever it was that Marvin spotted in my brainwave patterns is, in fact, the wrong question!
FORD:
Yeah! Well, it might be right, but it’s probably wrong. Ah, if only we could find out what it is…!
ARTHUR:
Look, if it’s printed in my brainwave patterns but I don’t know how to reach it - suppose we introduce some random element which can be shaped by that pattern!
FORD:
Like?
ARTHUR:
Pulling out letters from the ‘Scrabble’ bag!
FORD:
Brilliant! That’s bloody brilliant!
ARTHUR:
Right.
FORD:
Right.
ARTHUR:
First four letters…
FORD:
”W. H. A. T.” What.
ARTHUR:
Go on…
FORD:
”D. O.” Do. It’s working! Hey this is terrific! It’s really coming! “You get”… what do you get…
ARTHUR:
More here!
FORD:
…”if…you…mul- multiply” - oh, I’m beginning to get sinking feelings about this…”if you multiply six by, by… by nine”. By Nine? Is that it?!
ARTHUR:
That’s it. Six by nine…forty-two! I always said there was something fundamentally wrong about the universe!
FORD:
Hmmm.
ARTHUR:
So what do we do now?
FORD:
I guess we just swallow our pride and go and join the human race.
ARTHUR:
Yes.
CAVEMAN:
[Grunts]
FORD:
Right.
CAVEMAN:
[Grunts]
ARTHUR:
It’s sad though, just at the moment it’s a very beautiful planet.
FORD:
It is. It is indeed. The rich primal greens… the river snaking off into the distance… the burning trees…
ARTHUR:
And in two million years: bang! It gets destroyed by the Vogons. What a life for a young planet to look forward to!
FORD:
Well - better than some. I read of one planet off in the seventh dimension that got used as a ball in a game of Intergalactic Bar Billards. Got putted straight into a black hole, killed ten-billion people.
ARTHUR:
Hmm. Total madness.
FORD:
Yeah! Only scored thirty points too.
ARTHUR:
Where did you read that?
FORD:
Hmm, a book.
ARTHUR:
Which book was that?
FORD:
’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’…
ARTHUR:
Oh that thing….
[Music: ‘What a Wonderful World’ by Louis Armstrong]
ANNOUNCER:
In the last episode of ’The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’, Peter Jones was The Book. Simon Jones played Arthur Dent, and Geoffrey McGivern, Ford Prefect. Mark Wing-Davey was Zaphod Beeblebrox; Susan Sheridan, Trillian; Stephen Moore, Marvin; Beth Porter, Marketing Girl; Jonathan Cecil, Number One and Management Consultant; David Jason, Captain and Caveman; and Aubrey Woods, Number Two and the Hairdresser. The program was written by Douglas Adams and John Lloyd, and produced by Geoffrey Perkins, with the technical assistance of Alick Hale Munro and Paul Hoyden, and Harry Parker and Dick Mills of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop.
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