Disclaimer and general notes: All characters and ideas belong to Douglas Adams. I'm sorry that it's so late but I've had computer problems (that's not an excuse). Anyway here it is. (I'm not good at general introductions)
Arthur Dent lay on the cold wet grass in the middle of some unknown and
unmentioned field in the middle of what is called England in the middle of what is called The Earth in the middle of what is called The Milky Way in the middle of what is called The Universe, staring up at the sky. This phenomenally unusual and coincidental fact was a result of the Milky Way vibrating for a moment in the tiniest way which had magnified by the time it got to Earth so that the Earth practically jumped. Nobody noticed of course.
Arthur Dent was unaware of his remarkable cosmic stature as he was drunk. Completely Pan Galactic Gargle-Blaster slugging drunk. He and Ford Prefect had got the news that Douglas Adams had died and immediately went to the pub to 'drown our sorrows' as Ford eloquently put it. In reality, which Ford frequently wasn't, it was just another excuse for him to go out and get drunk. He was very upset that Doug Adams had passed away, another of his handy phrases, but wasn't about to put off the opportunity to meet a Pan Galactic Gargle-Blaster or three. What it all came down to was Arthur Dent lying in a wet field with Ford Prefect unconscious a few feet away. As he drifted into
unconsciousness, Arthur stared dreamily up at the whirling stars, which, just as he fell asleep, resolved themselves into a familiar face.
Noting that no one was paying them attention the stars whirled again, back to their original state, to wait for a more cognizant mind to look up.
A few hours later Arthur rolled over onto his face. The shock of the extremely dewy grass on his face woke him up. Cautiously he lifted a hand to make sure his head was still there. It was and began complaining as soon as his fingers came into contact with it. Painfully he rolled back onto his back and stared blearily up at the spinning stars. Funny that, he thought, The stars don't usually spin like that do they? Ah, they've stopped. Good. Presently another thought made itself known, Do they usually look like that? The stars I mean. In that funny pattern, not at all like I remember. Looks kind of like. . . no. . . yes! It does look like Doug Adams. But he's gone right? He is isn't he? I'm not just thinking that? But no, Arthur was sure he was sure that Doug Adams had passed away and he was equally sure that the stars usually did not look like Doug Adam's face.
"Ford, Ford." he said hoarsely to the prone snoring figure next to him. "The stars are moving. They look like Doug Adams." Ford didn't respond and Arthur's head hurt too much to actually consider getting up and shaking Ford awake. Besides which, if he did follow that course of action, it would likely result in a choice selection of Ford's favourite words applied to what he currently thought of Arthur Dent. Instead Arthur lay on his back and attempted to reason out why this strange and unusual thing, after all the other strange and unusual
things that had happened to him over the years, had suddenly manifested itself. His brain protested loudly as it was not built for such strenuous thinking and quit immediately. Arthur spent a good ten minutes convincing his mind that it really did want to stay in it's present atmosphere. Finally his brain gave up and yielded the answer, a momentous occasion; being the first time Arthur had actually truly understood something, and said simply that the whole cosmos was grieving for the late and great Doug Adams and this was the stars' small memento in memory. This made as clear as could be his brain shut off and left Arthur lying, once again, unconscious in the middle of the wet field.
Far above the stars whirled.
Arthur Dent lay on the cold wet grass in the middle of some unknown and
unmentioned field in the middle of what is called England in the middle of what is called The Earth in the middle of what is called The Milky Way in the middle of what is called The Universe, staring up at the sky. This phenomenally unusual and coincidental fact was a result of the Milky Way vibrating for a moment in the tiniest way which had magnified by the time it got to Earth so that the Earth practically jumped. Nobody noticed of course.
Arthur Dent was unaware of his remarkable cosmic stature as he was drunk. Completely Pan Galactic Gargle-Blaster slugging drunk. He and Ford Prefect had got the news that Douglas Adams had died and immediately went to the pub to 'drown our sorrows' as Ford eloquently put it. In reality, which Ford frequently wasn't, it was just another excuse for him to go out and get drunk. He was very upset that Doug Adams had passed away, another of his handy phrases, but wasn't about to put off the opportunity to meet a Pan Galactic Gargle-Blaster or three. What it all came down to was Arthur Dent lying in a wet field with Ford Prefect unconscious a few feet away. As he drifted into
unconsciousness, Arthur stared dreamily up at the whirling stars, which, just as he fell asleep, resolved themselves into a familiar face.
Noting that no one was paying them attention the stars whirled again, back to their original state, to wait for a more cognizant mind to look up.
A few hours later Arthur rolled over onto his face. The shock of the extremely dewy grass on his face woke him up. Cautiously he lifted a hand to make sure his head was still there. It was and began complaining as soon as his fingers came into contact with it. Painfully he rolled back onto his back and stared blearily up at the spinning stars. Funny that, he thought, The stars don't usually spin like that do they? Ah, they've stopped. Good. Presently another thought made itself known, Do they usually look like that? The stars I mean. In that funny pattern, not at all like I remember. Looks kind of like. . . no. . . yes! It does look like Doug Adams. But he's gone right? He is isn't he? I'm not just thinking that? But no, Arthur was sure he was sure that Doug Adams had passed away and he was equally sure that the stars usually did not look like Doug Adam's face.
"Ford, Ford." he said hoarsely to the prone snoring figure next to him. "The stars are moving. They look like Doug Adams." Ford didn't respond and Arthur's head hurt too much to actually consider getting up and shaking Ford awake. Besides which, if he did follow that course of action, it would likely result in a choice selection of Ford's favourite words applied to what he currently thought of Arthur Dent. Instead Arthur lay on his back and attempted to reason out why this strange and unusual thing, after all the other strange and unusual
things that had happened to him over the years, had suddenly manifested itself. His brain protested loudly as it was not built for such strenuous thinking and quit immediately. Arthur spent a good ten minutes convincing his mind that it really did want to stay in it's present atmosphere. Finally his brain gave up and yielded the answer, a momentous occasion; being the first time Arthur had actually truly understood something, and said simply that the whole cosmos was grieving for the late and great Doug Adams and this was the stars' small memento in memory. This made as clear as could be his brain shut off and left Arthur lying, once again, unconscious in the middle of the wet field.
Far above the stars whirled.