I don't own Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, nor am I worthy of owning it.
The Worst Thursday
Prologue
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm end of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun. Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-eight million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue-green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea. This story takes place here, or at least for the beginning, since a rather sad thing happens to this rather insignificant planet near the very beginning. Since I have no care for suspense, I will gladly tell you it is destroyed by a Vogon constructor fleet and only a very few survive with no home at all.
Chapter 1
"Nice day today," Said the man of whom this story is not about.
"Well, never trust Thursdays, that's what I always tell myself. Last Thursday my grandpa Mel died, the one before I learned I pierced my, apparently, wrong ear."said the mailman of great importance in this story, Brian Stewwart.
"Tough, eh?" said the man at the door, who once again I will remind you of how little importance he was.
Brian is a very normal man with two legs and blond-red hair. He is a mailman, who always told himself he really wanted adventure, fun, and really wild things, but deep down he knew he never meant it. He has a rather boring life; he doesn't even own a digital watch. He has only been invited to two parties before: his grandpas' party, which sucked like hell, and a fancy dress party at the Islington Flat, where he saw his beautiful girl which left the party with a very oddly clothed man. Brian certainly did not know the oddly clothed man was the president of the Galaxy, and if he heard so, he would not believe it.
Brian noticed a bulldozer and a group of men in front of his destination- Arthur Dents' house. He could, however, not see Arthur Dent laying down flat in front of the bulldozer, since it was an S.E.P.(Somebody Else's Problem)
Brian had this slight problem since his grandpa died two weeks before. He had developed a rather large case of bulldozer-a-phobia,(if there was such a thing.), since his grandpa did die by getting ran over by a bulldozer-looking-SUV.
So, he sat down and waited for 5 minutes while sulking about his grandfathers' death and how he has never scored with any chick in his life of 26 years, then got tired of dreaming of events that would never take place and took a 5-minute nap. While he was sleeping the construction team was demolishing Arthur Dent's place.
Brian awoke from screams of terrified people and huge gusts of wind.
"Ah, towel!" yelled a man rummaging through the ruins Arthur's house
"...through your star system, and regrettably your planet is one of those scheduled for demolition. The process will take slightly less than two of your Earth minutes. Thank you." said a deep voice that seemed to be coming from nowhere, anywhere, and everywhere all at once.
He was so startled by this he barely noticed two men hitching a ride on a Vogon ship.
After a second or two he realized no one would yell, 'Ah, towel!' while the Earth was being demolished without it having some importance. He scurried to the remains and grabbed a towel, which was just grey and had no drop of happiness-looking, heart-warming, mood-enlightening joy to help the occasion.
The next thing he knew he was standing in a toilet inside The Heart of Gold, one of the best Spaceships in the History of Zaphod Beeblebrox's life. "Well, this sucks..." he said, and let a tear escape the sadness of his eye.
Earth, was no longer mostly harmless, it was demolished. Everyone, even the man of no importance in this story, was dead.
"Good riddance."