Meanwhile, Arthur had managed to hop from one vat of custard to another. He was really feeling quite smug about it too. He hopped along from chocolate to fudge to toffee and then back to vanilla, humming a toneless melody slightly reminiscent of "Tiptoe through the Tulips". He skipped into a vat of orange custard, less gracefully as he would have liked, and landed on his back. He turned around and attempted to right himself. It was harder than it looked. Arthur managed to get himself onto his side, and he opened his eyes. Through a rather large blob of custard he saw Fenchurch.
"FENCHURCH!" he said as he attempted to run and embrace her. It was a valiant attempt, but it somehow ended with him facedown in the custard. "Mmmfagooorrrrb!!!!" Arthur said through a mouthful of custard. He swallowed. "Fancy meeting you here. Have you seen Marvin?"
"Marvin's the slightly depressed hunk of metal, right?" Fenchurch replied.
"I hope you didn't call him that to his face."
"Well...now that you mention it..." Fenchurch looked guiltily at Arthur.
"No wonder he was enjoying himself. Anyhow, what brings you to these parts?"
"Leisure. I enjoy swimming through custard every day of this miserable existence."
"Really? Me too!" Arthur said with a great deal more enthusiasm than Fenchurch.
"I was joking."
"Oh."
"I have been trying to fly like you taught me. It is a great deal more difficult here. I've had to change your words from 'throwing yourself at the ground and missing' to 'throwing yourself at the custard and missing'. It keeps tipping me off balance."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Look, I've got this sudden craving for sardine-flavored custard. I'm going to run get some. Talk to you later." He slopped away, still slightly curious as to what the devil this place was.