"Turn the dial," said Ford, climbing onto his sun bed.
Arthur fiddled with the dial and eventually got himself into a position where the two suns beat down on either side of his face, casting no shadows.
"This is paradise," he sighed.
"No, it's Beebles, it's got a much better ring to it," said Zaphod. "Anyway, after the Krikkit lark, the galactic police caught up with me, but they just wanted to escort me to the galactic council. They were still angry over the Heart of Gold, but once I explained to them how I saved the Universe from the Krikkits, they were fine."
"But you didn't...." started Arthur.
"Don't interrupt," interrupted Zaphod. "They said I couldn't really go back to being President, but would be willing to give me any other job I wanted. I didn't mess around, guys. I went for the big one. Guys, you are now looking at the new Owner Editor for the Hitch-hikers Guide to the Galaxy." He paused for effect. "With the platinum handshake I got, I put down a deposit for a Magrathean planet. Now I've got my planet and the Magratheans have a full page advert for a year. The rest is made up from the tourist trade."
"So, basically, you're rolling in it," said Ford.
"Exactly," said Zaphod.
"Good, you can pay me the money I'm owed for the coverage on Earth!" Ford held out his hand.
"But I got it all put in instead of the edited version, isn't that enough?"
"No, I don't do this for the love, you know."
"You really find out who your friends are when you become their owner," muttered Zaphod.
"Owner!" Shouted Ford.
"Yeah, apparently, as a researcher your guide remains the property of Megadodo Publications, which is the property of myself, and your contract states that as you are in possession of the guide, you are the property of Megadodo Publications, which is in turn, well, you know the rest."
"Well here's fifty nine point nine nine alterian dollars," said Ford, thrusting money in Zaphod's hand, then took his researchers card out of his pocket and threw it in the swimming pool. "I quit."
"Nice to see you again Ford," beamed Zaphod.
"And you mate," grinned Ford. They embraced, realised how silly they looked and separated. Arthur got on with getting tanned.
"So what about the Stag Night?" Asked Ford.
"Well I thought we could go to Eccentrica Gallumbits' new night club planet, it's supposed to be wild."
"Great," said Ford.
"Are you in, monkey man?" Asked Zaphod.
"Yes, four eyes, I'm in." Arthur dialled himself a greater angle. Screaming and hollering filled the air, causing Arthur to upend his sun bed and land, too heavily, on the floor. Two little kids hammered towards him, leapt over his cowering body and into Zaphod's arms.
"Little brats," he said, grinning paternally. "I've named the oldest one Phil, after my Earth name. The nipper's called Trisha, after Trillian's Earth name."
"Arthur studied them closely. They looked like normal kids, maybe a bit too cute for his liking, but still normal. He breathed a sigh of relief to the fact that they had taken after their mother.
"Children, this is Uncle Ford and Uncle Arthur." Zaphod had changed, thought Arthur. The kids giggled and buried their faces in Zaphod. He shook his heads, still grinning. "Bless 'em."
Arthur felt that 'bless 'em' should be mentioned every time their names were said as an unofficial middle name. He had a niece on Earth called Michaela and he always associated her name with 'bless her heart'. Michaela 'bless her heart' Martin. It had a nice ring to it and if you ever met her, you would know how applicable it was. By this time, Zaphod, the kids and Ford had gone inside. Arthur hurried into the house.
Everyone was sitting around a magnificent table, covered by a magnificent feast. The last time Arthur had seen food like this he had found mice on the table. He checked before sitting down. Fenchurch took his hand and squeezed it.
"This incredible," she whispered in his ear.
"I propose a toast," shouted Ford, not knowing the acoustically perfect design of the room would swell his voice to that of a Welsh Male Voice Choir. Everyone lifted their glasses.
"To Zaphod, Trillian and the kids. May your futbulions never cross and your buquabs never separate."
Only Zaphod appreciated this ancient Betelgeuse toast, but they all drank to it. As they prepared to gorge themselves, Zaphod stood up.
"Did you get us a present?"
"Zaphod!" Said Trillian through clenched teeth.
"Well, they're expected to bring a present. Still, never mind if you haven't, I've enough presence for all of us."
Zaphod was the only one to laugh, as was usual for his attempts at humour.
"Actually, we have," said Arthur, mystifying everyone. He rummaged through his carrier bag and produced some circuit boards. "Sorry they're not gift wrapped."
"Hey, thank you," falsified Zaphod. "I'm touched, we're touched that you thought of us. What are they?"
"Marvin, or at least what's worth keeping."
"So that's where he got to!" Exclaimed Zaphod. "Where's my coat?" His demand went unanswered and the horrified looks from around the table demanded an explanation. "I sent him to the Big Bang Burger Bar to get my coat which I left behind. Perhaps I should have given him the return fare."
"Marvin is dead?" Whispered Trillian, tears brimming in her eyes. She only remembered the good times, or to be more accurate, the less than lousy times, when Marvin complimented her, or at least was inoffensive towards her.
"I think it would be fairer to say that Marvin has rusted." Zaphod's tact struck like nuclear missile in the bullseye of a dartboard. Trillian ran out of the room crying.
"I think you should keep hold of Marvin for the moment," said Ford. Arthur stuck Marvin in his pocket.
CHAPTER 45
Death could be defined as that which when mentioned over dinner could cause one person to leave the room crying and for all bar one (Zaphod Beeblebrox) to be put off their magnificent meal. A very personalised definition, admittedly, but a very applicable one even though it is based on a situation with a major misunderstanding. Marvin did not die, although it was what he dearly wished. He ceased to function, which had the desired effect, albeit temporarily. It has been asked why, in addition to Marvin's ability to switch off at any time and with the knowledge that by sticking his left arm in his right ear he could electrocute himself, Marvin never finished himself off a long time ago. Apart from the fact that his programming wouldn't allow him, he would miss out on the opportunity to continue being wretched, which he did until his body could take it no longer.
There are those who feel that Marvin's end was untimely and a bit of an anticlimax considering his eventful life full of narrow escapes, close shaves and apathetic encounters. His escape from the Disaster Area stunt ship has never been fully documented (though it can now be revealed that it wasn't as exciting as expected) and will not be disclosed here to remain within the legal boundaries that exist for that section of society with a furtive imagination. Nor can we forget the lengthy tale of how Marvin eventually ended up minus one original leg on the planet Squornshellous Zeta. However, Marvin has ceased to exist as before and will stay that way, unless something really improbable happens.
It may please those who think that this is the very end of Marvin to know that it is indirectly through Marvin that Zaphod, Ford and Arthur, not to mention Trillian, Bolo and Fenchurch, are soon to be sent on their way to save the Universe.
CHAPTER 46
The scruffy mechanic idled around by the door. Eventually Zaphod opened it.
"I've brought your ship back, goes like a dream now," said the mechanic, wiping his hands on his greasy overalls, achieving nothing.
"It was going like a dream beforehand, I was hoping for a little reality to creep back into it's performance," muttered Zaphod.
"Very good, sir." The mechanic knew of Zaphod's position and wasn't going to jeopardise his by getting cocky. "We followed the service instructions down to the last detail. No unnecessary work done. We even changed the filters on the Nutri-Matic Drinks Synthesiser.