FIFTY MORE PICKLES AND ANOTHER LARGE FISH

"Where's my chicken?" Arthur asked, extremely distressed.

"In your mitt, I assume," said Ford Prefect lazily.

(Following is a rather lengthy passage about Ford Prefect and his reflections on the subject of mitts. If you don't happen to be in one or another of those topics, I suggest you skip ahead: there is where the action begins and it's got Melvin in it too.)

Ford Prefect had recently developed an obsession with oven mitts and believed they were key to any aspiring hitchhiker. Ford also happened to be a field journalist. He wrote articles for a book. A book more popular than How To Turn Your Ear into A Pretty Good Tasting Cabbage by Ernie Plight, better selling than Autobiography of a Hoopy Frood by Zaphod Beeblebrox, and more controversial than How I Plan to Kill God (With My Music) by Leah Lennon (of the Ooblex Crush). He worked for the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and was well known for his ridiculously in depth entry on a planet whose inhabitants still thought digital watches were a rather neat idea.

This is what Ford Prefect has to say on the subject of oven mitts:

Oven mitts are one of the most spectacularly useful things invented since the towel. They are extremely convenient for carrying around as they are made in the shape of a hand (the connection being you can put them on your hands-bang the rocks together, guys). They are excellent insulators so if you wanted to keep something warm, say, a chicken or your head, you would merely put said object in to your glove.

The origin of the word 'lifty' comes from oven mitts, the word lifty meaning 'really cool and together guy' (the more literal translation being 'has a warm chicken and/or head'). For example, in a sentence, you the word would be used like so: Do you sass that hoopy frood, Ford Prefect? That guy is really lifty and always knows where his towel is and his oven mitt too.

On board the Heart of Gold, Marion was happily reading aloud a bunch of Firefly quotes she'd found on Eddie, the ship's computer. Penny and Leah were seated on the floor next to her, half listening and half not-partly because they'd heard them so many times. Even Eddie had been unable to find some Buffy quote Marion had not heard-the improbability of it being as good as infinity to none, such steep odds that it would likely explode the universe to try. They sighed.

"You realize you can sit on chairs," Trillian informed them.

"It's more natural this way," Leah informed her back.

Trillian rolled her eyes.

"Hey, wow, you guys!" gurgled Eddie suddenly. "Incoming message!" The screen flickered and the face of Gag Halfrunt appeared.

"You!" cried Zaphod.

"Yes," said the brain care specialist. "I just thought I'd talk to you all before I killed you but I can't really think of anything to say."

"But how did you ever find us?" cried someone.

"Oh, it was a simple matter for my starship captain. Isn't that right….Melvin!"

"Captain Garglefront Deathlord!" corrected a high pitched squeaky voice whinily. The owner of the voice stumbled in front of the camera giving the crew of the Heart of Gold a view of a rumpled up t-shirt with the slogan 'Frodo Lives' emblazoned on it. "Oh, oops," giggled the voice. "Too close." He stepped back and their view of the t-shirt was replaced by the head and torso on an extremely nerdy boy. "Hello!" said Melvin cheerily. "My name's Melvin and I own joo. You can call me Captain Garglefront Deathlord. To the maaaaaaaaaaax!"

"I don't know what's going on but I don't like it," said Arthur.

Melvin gasped and pointed at Marion and Penny. "You look exactly like Eowyn! And you look exactly like Hermione! My sexual fantasies are coming true! Will either of you marry me!"

"Melvin," said Gag Halfrunt firmly. "Now is neither the time nor the place."

The screen flickered off.

The screen turned back on.

"Enjoy dying!" said Gag Halfrunt.

"HA!" said Ford. "You'll never kill us!"

"Well, I at least have to try," said Halfrunt indifferently.

Penny was thinking very hard about some things. This is what she thought: "I wish I hadn't forgotten my computer on earth. There are some things I wanted to do on that. How am I supposed to keep up with FA if I can't get on the IDS website. I guess I could ask Eddie but—I don't know. Heh, heh, the Beatles are so great. 'I once had a girl or should I say she once had me nee nee neee nee-'" Gag Halfrunt's ship started firing. "-a fine kettle of fish. Cheese. Swiss cheese." The Hearth of Gold slipped in to an alternate universe far, far away from Gag Halfrunt's ship and the traitorous Melvin.

"Wait-no!" said Zaphod alarmed. "The whole scheme was me finding that brain dude and killing him! Or something! Give me that pen!" Zaphod snatched the pan and began writing.

The Heart of Gold slipped back to wherever it had been only now it had about fifty Sure-Kill 500 blaster cannons on it and reduced that un-froody dude to a pile of ashes.

"Ow," he said.

"Ow," said his wimpy sidekick.

"Ow," said Heinz Dieter, the wimpy sidekick's girlfriend, in a brief cameo.

"HA HA HA," laughed Zaphod, the hippest, hoopiest, froodiest, liftiest dude. He had a really big—muscles.

"I love you!" cried Trillian. "You are the coolest guy!" They went off and made it happen.

"My head is on fire," whined Arthur. "And my tea has been shoved you-know-where."

"ARRRRGH!" cried Penny, snatching back the pen. "You are RUINING my story!" And then Zaphod diedlived. Only he was transported as far from the ship as humanly possible (at an improbability of 126 546 916:1) And a flowerpot fell on Arthur's head but that is inconsequential.

Zaphod ran in the room, playing the banjo madly. "Guys, guys! Important news!"

"That's some nice banjo playing," commented Ford.

"How did you get back here?" cried Penny, outraged. "I thought I fixed you for good!"

"Yeah, anyways," said Zaphod shiftily. "I met this really cool frood who promised to fix all my problems!" He stepped aside to reveal a slightly nervous looking man.

"H-hello," said the slightly nervous looking man, as though he wasn't quite sure how to start. "My name is Doctor Proctor."

"I didn't realize you realized you had problems," said Trillian archly at Zaphod.

"Er, yeah," said Zaphod. "I knew that. You conartist!" he cried at the Doctor and pushed him out in to space.

"Ahhh!" cried Doctor Proctor before he died of asphyxiation.

"I wonder what direction this story is going in?" Wondered someone, wondering what direction the story was going.

"Stop playing that banjo," snapped Arthur testily.

Zaphod stopped playing the banjo and an unnatural silence settled over the ship.

Arthur managed to trip on something. "Ow!" he said. Ford tackled the something.

"Ah ha!" cried Ford, picking up the something. "A plot!"

"A what?" asked Arthur.

"A plot!" repeated Ford.

"You mean I tripped on a plot?"

"Yes," said Ford exasperated.

"Well…Is it a good one?"

"Probably not," said Zaphod, meanly.

"Well, it's my plot and I like it," Arthur said defensively.

ARTHUR'S PLOT

One day, Arthur Dent was having a nice cup of tea. "This is nice," he said. "I think I'll take a walk. And I might just pop in to the pub."

On the way to the pub, some little boys came and kicked Arthur in the shins.

"Ow," he said.

THE END

There was a long pause.

"Well, that was lousy," commented Ford.

"I liked it," said Arthur.

"Dung Brians," said Zaphod.

"You try it if you're so smart. And what's wrong with Brians?" snapped Arthur.

"I have an idea," admitted Ford. "And I AM the only one here who writes for a living."

FORD'S IDEA

The Hitchhiker's Guide has this to say on the subject of flowerpots:

Flowerpots are the single most unlikely objects in the Galaxy. Irrational creatures, they are often falling on the heads of others. In fact, the most likely unlikely thing to happen to you is to have a flowerpot fall on your head for no apparent reason. They are very malicious and have a strong sense of flowerpotial pride.

Once, a foolish race of Nimplots insulted flowerpots and thereafter, their entire race was under constant attack by a never ending brigade of warrior flowerpots.

A common insult or curse is "May your toes curl up and many flowerpots fall upon your head." When saying this to someone, be sure to wear a hard hat as a wandering flowerpot may be insulted at being an insult.

END

"That wasn't a story," said Arthur, feeling a little ripped off. "That was just some entry you wrote for the Hitchhiker's Guide!"

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice," said Ford quietly.

Suddenly Gag Halfrunt ran in to the room, snatched Zaphod's banjo and began playing it. "Ha ha!" he cried, jumped in to the teleporter and disappeared.

"Oh no," said Trillian. "I guess now we have to go get Zaphod's banjo back and kill Halfrunt more… better…"

"Damn straight," said Zaphod.

Leah began absentmindedly tapping her library book.

"There's no time for that!" shouted Ford dramatically and THREW the book out the window.

"Nnnnnno!" cried Leah and Arthur. "Not the library book! The fines will be enormous!"

"Quick!" cried Ford. "In to the teleporter!"

They all jumped in to the teleporter.

"Ow," said someone. "My face is spread all over."

Zaphod punched the teleport-a button-a.

"Shouldn't we have programmed our destination?" asked Arthur anxiously.

"No," said Zaphod sarcastically.

KA-BOOM!

Was the noise the teleporter made as it teleported.

The door opened to reveal the inevitable desert-like planet.

"Oh joy," said Arthur gloomily.

Zaphod peered over the top of his extra dark sunglasses which he was wearing for added coolness. "Wow," he said.

"The landscape is-" started Trillian.

"-Inevitable," finished Ford, grimly. He pulled his oven mitt firmly down on his head, wincing as a bit of chicken was pushed against his skull. "I think we're in for one epic battle."

"Oh whew," said Marion. "Only one epic battle. That's nice and to the point."

"I'd rather have no battles," snapped Arthur.

For the second time that day, a flowerpot fell on Arthur's head.

"This must be what going mad is like," commented Arthur.

"I hope I'm mad," said Ford in a slightly disturbing tone.

"I'm fairly sure you are," said Arthur timidly.

By this time they were surrounded by about five hundred vertically challenged men with pointy sticks.

"Excuse me," said what appeared to be the leader of the vertically challenged troops. "But I hope to Dickens you won't mind if we take you hostage and treat you somewhat badly."

"Careful guys," cautioned Ford. "He's got an acid tongue, this one."

Arthur was very surprised. "I thought he was being considerably polite."

"That's because you are a dumb monkey from a planet entirely populated by dumb monkeys," Zaphod explained. He turned to the dwarf. "Now listen you, we don't want any trouble but you had better take us to your leader cause I am looking for an exceptionally important banjo. And it would be nice if you got us something to drink," he added as an afterthought.

WHAM was the noise the dwarf's stick made as it whacked Zaphod's shin. The dwarf liked the sound so much, he did it again: WHAM. "Please! Call me Edward!" said Edward the dwarf politely.

After that they had no choice but to follow the cruel dwarfs with the dirty mouths. Ford felt very frustrated as if he had had even one Kill-O-Zap gun, he could have fried their pancakes to next week. Other than a certain amount of concern regarding the sticks, Arthur felt fairly optimistic-a mood which worried him quite a bit.

Amidst good natured sounding oaths, Ford, Trillian, Arthur, Zaphod and the rest were shoved in to a small hole leading to an underground chamber.

"May I take your coat?" inquired one of the dwarfs, indicating Arthur's bathrobe.

"That would be very nice only I'm afraid I'm not wearing anything underneath it," declined Arthur.

The dwarf hit Arthur on the shins just in case he was being rude. Arthur's optimistic mood vanished abruptly. Trillian distanced herself from Arthur slightly. He didn't notice as he was involved with clutching his shin whilst attempting to walk.

Zaphod had compensated the coolness of one of his heads and removed on pair of sunglasses in order to see properly. "Foul mouthed barbarians," he muttered as his coat was offered to be taken.

They entered an impressively gilded chamber with a throne in it. Edward waddled over to it and sat down. "Now what's all this about a banjo?"

They gibbered.

"Listen buddy," began Zaphod in a rage. "You're so un-cool you could melt ice just by looking at it. You're so un-hip, I'm surprised your pants don't fall down-" These were the worst insults he could think of under pressure "-If you know anything about my banjo, you'd better say so right now or I'm going to have to…put my hat on backwards!"

"Dickens!" said the dwarf rudely. "Meat pie! BUNDTCAKES!"

"I could murder this dwarf," muttered Zaphod to Ford.

"The only thing that can kill a dwarf is having his tunnes collapse and his gold veins run dry," Ford reminded him.

"I hope your veins collapse and your tunnes run dry," spat Zaphod at Edward.

Edward was properly shocked. "I'm properly shocked," he said.

"That does it," said Ford angrily. "It's one thing to insult us collectively but it's another thing entirely to insult the only girl here-" he pointed at Trillian "-Put 'em up you bastards!"

Penny, Marion, and Leah made sounds of indignance.

"It's another thing entirely to insult one of the four girls here!" Ford corrected himself.

A stampede of girls ran into the room.

"I can't count them all!" cried Ford dramatically whilst gesturing with a finger.

Zaphod was gliding through the girls much as a bowling ball might glide through water.

The girls disappeared (except for the ones with names).

"Great Heavens!" cried Edward the dwarf, extremely distressed.

"You just don't learn, do you?" growled Ford.

"Will someone please tell me what Mr. Edward is doing wrong?" asked Arthur very worried. He as worried that he had gone mad and no one had bothered to tell him.

"I dunno," shrugged Leah.

"He's a bloody dirt mouth, that's what's wrong!" said Ford.

Edward nodded sorrowfully to his troops who began gleefully whamming at the party's shins.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" said everyone.

Hastily, all the dwarfs' tunnes collapsed and their gold veins ran dry. So they died. Teach them. Rude bastards.

"My banjo is clearly not here!" cried Zaphod, determined to sound heroic.

"Onward!" cried Ford.

"Let's spilt up to make better time," suggested Zaphod. "I'll go with the girls! Or at least Trillian!" Zaphod ran heroically in to the teleporter pulling Trillian with him.

Leah, Penny, and Marion went hastily in afterwards so they wouldn't get split up.

"Erm," said Ford looking at Arthur.

"Um," said Arthur not looking at Ford.

"Shall we?" asked Ford.

"Well, I don't think I have any choice so, alright," said Arthur.

They stepped in to the teleporter and push-

PENNY, LEAH AND MARION'S ADVENTURE

When the three teenage girls steeped out of the teleporter, they found themselves standing in a movie theater on a linoleum floor which was a pretty nice shade of blue.

"That's a nice coloured floor," commented Penny.

"Yeah, I like it too. Good choice," agreed Marion.

"Where are we?" asked Leah.

"Who cares?" wondered Marion.

"Hey look!" said Marion. "It's Zaphod's banjo!"

"Lifty!" said Penny.

"I'm going to play some groovy tunes on it!" said Marion. And she did.

"That was good of us to find Zaphod's banjo," said Leah. "I wonder if we'll ever see him again?"

"Let's watch movies," said Penny. "We ARE standing in a pretty nice movie theater, after all."

"Okay, good point," said Marion.

"True," said Leah. "But what movie ought we to watch? This one? That one! I don't know!" she added dramatically.

"Nevermind, let's not watch a movie," said Penny, reconsidering.

"Should we! Shouldn't we!" debated Leah.

"We shouldn't," said Penny firmly.

"Oh, alright," said Leah.

"Let's go anyways," suggested Marion.

"Okay," said Penny.

So they walked in to the theater.