The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Arthur watched with awe as the small spaceship passed into the planet-making factory. Planets were everywhere – completed, uncompleted – it was all there.

"Do you think, that I could have my own planet, on which the sole intelligent life form is me? Though only after mice and dolphins, of course." He asked Slartibartfast.

"Well," Slartibartfast replied. "You can have your own planet if you help to build it, there's no doubt about that, but you said the sole intelligent life form. Do you think maybe that's going a bit far?"

"What do you mean? I am perfectly capable of intelligence."

"So you say now," Slartibartfast said mysteriously.

"What? I mean, Zaphod has his own universe…would you call him intelligent?"

"Now, I'm not going to dispute you on that…no one would…except Zaphod himself, of course. I suppose you're right. What's a planet to an entire universe? Let's get building."


"Ardy, my man!" Zaphod began with open arms.

"Arthur," said Arthur, sounding not at all pleased.

"Right, Arthur," Zaphod corrected, although he was sure to forget it within the minute. "Arthur, what's this I hear about you making your own planet?"

Arthur squared his shoulders and looked Zaphod in the eye, preparing for his wholly important and not-to-be-missed speech.

"Well," he began proudly. "I am going to make a planet, on which the sole intelligent life form is me…apart from mice and dolphins, of course. The species of me will be called Arthurian, and the planet will be named…well, I haven't quite thought of a name yet, but you may be assured that it will be named. The occupants of my planet will drink tea – real tea – and there shall be absolutely no beer-drinking, Arthur-squishing House-Demolishers with which to pulverize my house. It will be wonderful."

Zaphod chuckled and swung his arm around lazily to slap Arthur on the back.

Arthur choked and adjusted his bathrobe.

"You do know that I have to approve this, don't you?" Zaphod asked, his teeth shining ominously.

"Um yes, yes I do," said Arthur, cringing.

"I think it's a bloody well great idea, Andy, the only thing that holds you back is the bit about intelligence…"

Arthur glared.

"Oh, right, maybe you could lend me some of yours," he spat.

Zaphod glared a glare even glarier than Arthur's glary glare and dusted off his perfectly non-dusty lapels.

"No thanks. I think you're insane, but I'll approve your project, because I'm that nice."

"Right," said Arthur, straightening up. "Just make sure when you do, you sign the form that says Arthur Dent, because there is no Andy Dent."


Arthur whipped out his handy towel and passed it over his perspiration-heavy forehead. Making planets was hard work. Zaphod had allowed him to make his own planet, all right. Yeah. Make his own planet. Alone. Well, Trillian, Ford, Slartibartfast, and, for some reason, Marvin, had pitched in, but it still was most definitely not easy (especially given the fact that they all thought he had gone insane…why would he all of a sudden want his own planet and species?).

Given his lack of help, Arthur had been forced to keep his planet small, only about the size of Earth's moon. But he didn't mind, as long as there would be tea, and there wouldn't be bulldozers.

Arthur stepped back to observe his work. Of course he didn't really step back, because to see the entire planet, it would have required a very large step back. Instead, he, Slartibartfast, Trillian, Ford, and Marvin all piled into a small spaceship.


As they traveled around the planet, Arthur observed it with pride. It greatly resembled a cross between Earth, and a place that Arthur couldn't quite recall at the moment. As a matter of fact, he didn't think he ever would, but that is much too far beyond the point.

The group landed in a small, grassy field.

Slartibartfast reached back into the ship and pulled out a picnic basket.

"Food," sighed Ford, observing the basket longingly, no doubt imagining its heavenly contents.

And so the five sat down to a lovely picnic (except that Marvin did not eat, although he did sit down). Arthur gulped down cups and cups of wonderful tea, and the others ate and drank to equal satisfaction.

"So," began Slartibartfast, scrubbing at his cheek with a napkin (not all of the food wanted to be eaten, and the smarter, more intellectual delicacies decided to avoid consumption by taking up residence on the faces and clothes of their would-be consumers). "What will we name her?"

Arthur looked back in confusion.

"Name who?" He asked, puzzled very greatly.

Slartibartfast waved his hand around.

"Her," he explained through a mouthful of peanuts. "Your planet."

"Ah, right," Arthur had no clue. "I have no clue."

"Not that anyone cares, but I was thinking something along the lines of Sad, or Lonely, or Welcome to Hell, although Hell itself works fine too," offered Marvin glumly.

"I think it should be a slight bit cheerier," said Trillian. "Though I haven't any suggestions of my own."

"What about Arthurium?" Asked Arthur.

Everybody stared at him.

"Well it's your planet," Slartibartfast said. "You get to name it whatever you want."

"Arthurium it is then," Ford stated.


And so it was. Arthurium was created. Planet home to Arthurians, led by Arthur Dent. Arthurium thrived and was the pride of Arthur's heart. Its people were generous, happy, and naturally good-looking.

It's a pity the Vogons decided to build a mini-mart.

Complete