THE HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE RED DWARF
(Disclaimer: These characters belong to, respectively: Douglas Adams, Rob Grant and Doug Naylor, Ben Elton and Rowan Atkinson, Tiger Aspect Productions, Ballantine Books, the BBC, J.R.R. Tolkien, New Line Productions, and the Saul Zaentz Company. Whew!)
Dave Lister stared in amazement at the uniformed Inspector Raymond Fowler standing in the Red Dwarf's drive room. "How the smeg did you get here?"
"Well, I'm damned if I know, laddie. One minute I'm stepping
out for a coffee, and the next . . . I'm surrounded by this odd light and
hoisted up like a sack of potatoes and dropped unceremoniously on my backside
in what vaguely resembles Moonbase Alpha after a three-alarm fire." He
scratched his head contemplatively. "The last thing I remember is asking
Patricia to get a glass of water for this young woman who'd just arrived at the
station . . ."
Tricia McMillan, a. k. a. Trillian, paced anxiously back and forth in the lobby
of Gasforth police headquarters and asked plaintively for the tenth time in as
many minutes, "Where's that inspector guy?"
"How the blazes should I know?" sighed an annoyed Sgt.Patricia
Dawkins. "He went out to get a cup of coffee two hours ago and I haven't
heard a word from him since." She shook her head. "That man almost
drives me mad sometimes . . ."
Just then, Detective Constable Kevin Goody rushed up to her desk.
"There's some green thing outside!" he exclaimed.
"Green thing?" Patricia looked at him dubiously.
"It tried to read poetry at me!"
"Oh, no," Trillian sighed. "Not the Vogons! Not here!"
"What's a Vogon?" Patricia asked her.
"You don't want to know."
Light years and several dimensions away, on board the Heart of Gold, the Fellowship of the Ring let out a collective, "Oh, no, not again!"
"My precious needs a drink badly," said Gollum.
"What kind would you like?" came a falsely cheerful voice.
Gollum jumped halfway across the room as Frodo and Sam
looked around for the owner of the voice.
"I think it's coming out of the wall!" said Merry.
"My precious wants wicked strength lager," Gollum told Eddie, the
ship's computer.
Eddie chortled. "OK, if you like stuff that tame."
"Shouldn't we wait until--" That was as far as Sam got before he noticed Gollum chugging down a massive bottle of Hansen's Wicked Strength Lager. Boromir and Aragorn looked at each and said . . . "Oh, smeg."
In Moria, Arthur Dent was saying much the same thing in reaction to the sight of a posse of Ringwraiths riding toward him and his comrades.
"What do you suppose they want?"
"I don't know, Ford," Arthur said nervously,
"but it can't be good because they're drawing swords."
Zaphod's reaction was instantaneous. "LEG IT!!!!"
They went the wrong way and came to a massive door.
"How do we get in?" Ford asked breathlessly.
Zaphod pushed and pulled on the doors with all three arms, but it was no good.
"Stupid doors!" he said, kicking them, which nearly broke his toe.
"About as useful as a squashed melon!"
To everyone's great surprise, the huge stone doors slid open.
"Toldja I'd get us in," Zaphod beamed.
Ford and Arthur exchanged skeptical looks...
"I'm not sure it'd be safer in there than out
here," Arthur said.
Ford looked over his shoulder and spotted the approaching ringwraiths. He very
helpfully pointed them out.
"On the other hand . . ."
They rushed inside, and the doors closed after them.
Back at Gasforth Police Station, Detective Inspector Derek
Grim pointed out the glaringly obvious to Sgt.Dawkins:
"We've got some strange things afoot here in Gasforth!"
"Very strange."
Just then Goody came rushing back in. "Y'know that green thing that was
outside?"
"Yes?" Dawkins said patiently.
"It's coming inside."
"Is it?"
"Yeah. Maggie just arrested it."
There was a sudden whoop of triumph from Trillian.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the indignant Vogon as Constables Maggie Habib and Frank Gladstone dragged him into the station.
"Loitering is a crime, you know. Can't be hanging about all day, can you?"
Noticing the Vogon's lethal-looking blaster, Habib told
Goody, "I think this bloke had more than just loitering on his mind,
Kevin."
"Yeah," Trillian agreed, "he was trying to kill me."
Goody looked shocked. "Why would he do that? Just because he's green?"
"No, 'cause my boyfriend's got his . . ."
The Vogon was furious by now. "I demand that you release me at once! We're very behind in our work! Lot of planets to demolish, and they've got to be gone by the end of the week!"
"What are you driveling about?" Inspector
Grim demanded.
"Before I answer that," the Vogon said, "first tell me what
universe I'm in."
Back on board the Heart of Gold, meanwhile, Frodo and Gandalf were
trying to get some sense out of Eddie, and failing miserably.
Eddie, for his own part, couldn't believe these two guys were so incredibly dense. "Geez, it's so simple! How many times have I gotta explain it to you?"
"Try one more," Gandalf suggested. "And this time leave out the fish."
"But, Gandalf, baby," Eddie chortled, "the fish are the most important part of the story!"
"Fish?" Gollum looked around. "Who say
fish?"
"Oh, now you've done it," groaned Frodo.
Merry and Pippin, meanwhile, were looking around for
anything they could ride.
Apart from a small space bike, which was unfortunately in pieces, they didn't
find anything.
"No skutters!" Merry whined.
"No, but I found a panel that lights up when I press this button."
Merry's face brightened. "You did?"
"See?" Pippin demonstrated. "I push this
button, and the panel lights up!"
"It says PLEASE DO NOT PRESS THIS BUTTON AGAIN."
Back at Gasforth police headquarters, Inspector Grim gave the Vogon a very puzzled look.
"Can't you take that silly costume off?" he
demanded.
"I beg your pardon?" said the Vogon.
"Somehow, Inspector Grim," Gladstone said, "I
don't think that's a costume."
"Is it just me, Kevin," Habib whispered to Goody, "or has
everything suddenly gone spare?"
"I don't know," Goody said. "But if this . . . thing . . . is here," he said, lowering his voice so the "thing" couldn't hear him, "where's Inspector Fowler?"
Habib winced. "I'm not sure I want to know."
In fact, Fowler didn't even want to know.
Especially when he ended up in the wreckage of Parrot's, which had not yet
recovered from Gollum's rampage.
"DEAR GOD!" he erupted in astonishment and outrage. "It looks like a bloody bomb went off in here!"
"Oh, I forgot we haven't cleaned this up yet,"
Lister said. "We'd have the skutters do it, but half of them are in for
repairs."
"Bloody little fat gits," Rimmer muttered under his breath. "Oh,
let's have skutter races. Meanwhile you're breaking most of them!"
"Skutters?"
"Little service robots. Oh, here comes one now."
The skutter peeked cautiously to the right and the left . . .
"It's okay, Bob," Lister said. "They're
gone."
Fowler had never before seen a machine breathe a sigh of relief, but that's
what the skutter did--at least, that's what it looked like. "What seems to
be the trouble with him?" he asked Lister.
"Long story, man."
"No doubt." Fowler said, gingerly steering his way through the remnants of Parrot's Cafe.
"WHERE ARE WE?" Zaphod shouted over the deafening silence.
"It looks like
some kind of tomb." Arthur observed.
"Ours, more than likely." Marvin interjected glumly.
"This reminds me of the tunnels under Magrathea," Ford mused. "Only without the weird carvings on the walls."
Arthur nodded and said, "I was just thinking it's a bit this mausoleum I used to play in at the church cemetery when I was a kid..."
Ford gave him a funny
look. "Fun childhood."
"It was just a place to go! Nice and quiet, and no one bothered me."
"You had to go to a cemetery
to escape being bothered?"
"It's not something I often talk about." Arthur said. "People usually give me funny looks when I do..."
"Ssssshhhh!" both of Zaphod's heads said at once. "You hear that?"
Ford and Arthur looked at each other. "Hear what?"
"Thought I heard
something."
The place was immense, and as silent as death.
"Probably the sound of all hope of rescue being shattered." Marvin opined.
Marvin dejectedly shuffled off...
"I wonder how big this place is," Arthur mused. He'd been in concert halls that weren't half the size of this.
Just then, the most hideous things started coming out of the woodwork--or was it stonework?
"What in the hell is that?"
Zaphod froze (which was unusual for him). "I don't know," he said, "but I think we'd better get out of here."
Seeing the newcomers pull out sharp swords, Ford was inclined to agree." LEG IT!!!!!"he shouted, and headed off in the wrong direction.
He realized his
mistake just in the nick of time, as a wall of the approaching creatures cut
him off.
"There's no way out!"
"I could have you told that." Marvin groaned.
"What do we
do?"
Ford spotted some ancient-looking swords thrown against one wall. They were
rusted and probably not very sharp, but better than nothing. "We'll have
to fight our way out. Grab a sword!"
Back at Gasforth Police Station, six
officers had finally managed to cram the Vogon into a cell.
And he wasn't too happy about it. "Let me out of here!" he demanded indignantly.
"Not till we find out what you're up to," said Inspector Grim.
"I've told
you what I'm up to!" the creature retorted. "We're in the middle of
demolishing the Zeta Nine star cluster to make way for a hyperspace bypass! The
work's got to be done!"
"Demolishing stars?" asked Grim's second . . . Constable Allen
Rimmer.
Rimmer was new to
Gasforth, having just transferred from the nearby town of Ruttletop. He'd been
there less than a week, and already everyone hated him.
It wasn't that he was a complete
officious prat. He just seemed to take rules and regulations a little too
seriously. There were rumors that he slept with his badge in one hand and
truncheon in the other, just in case he were called to some emergency in the
night.
The transfer had happened after his partner, one Melinda Kochanski, had left the force to spend more time with her family. Being shot in a shop burglary had changed her outlook on her job.
So here Rimmer was in
Gasforth . . . and nobody wanted him.
Oh, he would have got on well with Fowler, who was also a by-the-book man. But
Fowler wasn't there, was he?
Behind him, Goody and Habib exchanged anxious looks...
"We can only
hold him for 24 hours without cause," Rimmer was saying.
"Twenty-four hours!" The Vogon was incensed. * "I'll be ready
for the Old Vogons' Home by the time I get out of here!"
"Isn't being a green yucky thing reason enough?" Goody asked, and Habib gave him an elbow in the side.
On board the Heart
of Gold, meanwhile . . . they had run out of drinks
already. Or so they thought until Eddie pointed out Zaphod's secret stash.
"You can't do this to him!" Frodo shouted. "He's had too much as
it is!"
"On the other hand, he seems to have forgotten all about
you-know-what," Gandalf pointed out.
"My precious
wants to know what this is." Gollum said to Eddie, holding up a bottle of
Zaphod's Old Janx Spirit. "Is it like wicked strength lager?"
"Oh, please," Eddie sneered. "This stuff makes wicked-strength
lager look like lemonade!"
Gollum grinned from ear to ear. It was not a pretty sight.
"My precious likes to hear that, yes."He opened the bottle...
"Is there any food around here?" asked Fowler, who was desperately hungry.
"The dispensin' machines are this way," Lister said.
"Splendid..."
Rimmer kept his distance from the machine. It had never liked him.
For some reason he couldn't put his finger on, however, this Fowler character looked oddly familiar. He wondered whether they might have crossed paths in a past life.
"Welcome to Jupiter Mining Corp Vending Service Number--" the machine began.
"Never mind
that," Lister told the machine, "just get the man some food."
"Certainly." the machine replied. "What can I get for you, sir?"
Fowler was staring open-mouthed at the machine. A vending machine that talked? He'd never heard of such a thing! "How--how does it do that?"
"Don't know," Lister admitted.
"Never mind,
that, then."Fowler said. Clearing his throat, he told the machine, "Tea
with two sugars and a chocolate frog, if you please."
"What's a chocolate frog?" the machine inquired.
"Never mind--make that a chocolate hobnob." Fowler corrected.
"Sorry, I don't
think I have any of those either. Want a Fun Size Crunchie Bar?"
Fowler sighed. "I suppose so."
There was a whir and a clunk.
The inspector picked
up the crunchie bar, turned to Lister, and asked him, "What kind of place
is this that doesn't even have a decent chocolate hobnob?"
"It's a minin' ship," Lister explained. "Not much call for
chocolate hobnobs, really."
"I see your point." Fowler said.
Then he did a
double-take. "Ship?"
Lister, Rimmer, and Kryten all looked at each other. Each
thought one of the others had told him. He had
to know by now . . .
Cat wandered in. "Hey, buds!"
"Ship?!!" Fowler repeated dumbfoundedly.
"What's his problem?" Cat asked.
Fowler stared at Cat. "I don't think I've ever met someone," he said, "who wore such interesting attire."
Cat grinned. "I can make you one, if you want!"
"Thank
you," Fowler said, "but I think I'll stick with my uniform for the
time being." He turned to Lister and asked him, "What on earth is a
mining ship doing with a fashion boutique on board?"
"Oh, Cat's outfits? That's a long story." Lister replied.
Following Lister and his Red Dwarf
shipmates down the corridor, Fowler said, "Under the present
circumstances, I've got plenty of time to listen."
"He's doing it
again!" exclaimed Arthur, who was getting fed up with Marvin's predictions
of gloom and doom in the midst of pitched battle with a horde of
Orcs."Doesn't that tin-plated git ever know when to shut up?"
"Nope,"said Zaphod, dodging a battle axe, "but that's part of his charm,
really..."
"We've got to get out of here!"
"You really think so?" Arthur shouted sarcastically to Zaphod.
"Where can we go?" Ford shouted. "They're closing in on all sides!"
"I don't suppose anyone cares about this," Martin droned, "but..."
"No, we're a little busy now to care!"
"There's an escape route directly beneath us." Marvin said.
Ford, Arthur, and
Zaphod all looked at each other.
" Now he tells
us!"
"Well, what the smeg are we waiting for?"
"Ford," Arthur said suddenly, "this all seems very familiar somehow . . ."
Ford blinked as the group rushed towards the escape route Marvin had alerted them to earlier. "What do you mean?"
"Like I've seen
this before, or . . . read it."
Arthur had been very young when he had borrowed a friend's copy of Lord
of the Rings. He hadn't gotten much beyond the
middle of the second book, but he remembered the scene in the mines of--
"Moria," he said aloud. "I thought I recognized that name. Oh
bloody hell, we have to get out of here!"
"Have you been here before?" Ford asked. In all his time on Earth,
the closest he'd gotten to literature were the TV listings.
"Not exactly, but I've got the passages about Moria committed to memory." Arthur said, pausing to slay an Orc."This is not someplace you want to stay for any great length of time if you can possibly avoid it..."
"What passages?" Zaphod asked. "How do you know about this place?"
"I read about in Lord of the Rings..."
"What's
that?"
"It's a book. Well, it's three books, actually, but I've never read to the
end . . ."
The Orcs charged.
The three mortals swung their swords in the desperate hope that they would actually hit something.
"So, Earthman," Zaphod puffed, "you were saying about this book?"
Arthur tried to explain while defending himself at the same time, which wasn't easy. "Well, you see, it's like this . . ."
Suddenly there was a loud roar from somewhere behind them. The Orcs scattered.
"Moria is a very nasty place . . ."
"Oh, God." Arthur covered his face with both hands. "I remember this part . . ."
Zaphod ducked a mace
aimed squarely at his head. "Mind letting us in on the details, Earthman?"
"I doubt they'll be very pleasant or interesting." Marvin droned, helping
Ford into the secret escape passage.
"This bit gave me nightmares for weeks afterward . . ." Arthur moaned.
Glancing over his shoulder,
Ford observed, "I can see why". A new horde of Orcs was closing in on them.
"I knew it." Marvin said. "We're doomed."
"Don't say that!" Arthur pleaded.
Meanwhile, back on the Heart of Gold, the Fellowship weren't having much better luck.
"This is madness,"Boromir said to himself, "pure madness...."
"No, it's lager."
"Lager?"Boromir
repeated, staring dumbfoundedly at Gandalf.
"Better than lager," Eddie told them cheerfully, "it's a Pan-Galactic
Gargle Blaster!"
"A what?"
Eddie chortled,"Oh, like you guys don't know..."
"No, we don't," said Sam.
Eddie began rhapsodizing on the joys of the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster . . .
...as elsewhere, Constable Rimmer and his fellow officers interrogated the Vogon.
"What is your name?" Rimmer demanded.
The Vogon rolled his eyes in annoyance. "For the millionth time..."
"I want you to
spell it out. Properly."
"I don't see why I should have to--"
Dawkins turned to
Grim and whispered, "Is it too late to get Doyle back?"
"I'm afraid so." Grim nodded. "He's already into the sixth week of his run
on Broadway."
"Can you believe it, Pat?"Habib said. "A bona fide extraterrestrial
in our own station. MI6'll want to get their hands on him for sure..."
The Vogon looked at them all. "Em-Aye who?"
"We're asking the questions here, laddie!" Rimmer barked.
"God,"Dawkins
muttered under her breath, "I can't believe I actually miss twit Kray."
Meanwhile, at a top-secret MI6 outpost near London, a young agent with an
eerily familiar face submitted his ID card to a security officer at the front gates."Lister,
Roger E., Agent No.65472-G3, here on official business..."
Arthur had just remembered what had happened in the book, and it wasn't good.
"You don't look so good, Earthman."Zaphod said as Ford and Marvin motioned him to follow them into the tunnel. "What's the prob?"
He kept repeating the
same word, over and over again: "Balrog."
*On the Vogon homeworld, each planetary revolution is seventy-two years long.
That makes the hours very long indeed.
