"Our benefactor shall be called 'Our Third Ent'," declared one journalist and so this mystery character was created.
The journalists started leaving the restaurant, telling the waiter that 'Our Third Ent' was paying and he was currently throwing up in the toilet. The ruse worked and was continued for many weeks until after one meal (generally referred to as the Last Slap Up), a journalist called 'Our First Udaz' was hard up for a story and decided to do an article on a mystery man called 'Our Third Ent' who was conning free meals out of restaurant owners. The other journalists were furious and all started writing their own exclusive interviews with 'Our Third Ent', each defending his actions and trying to outdo each other. This went on for weeks, with '20 things we've made up about Our Third Ent' Articles and 'Our Third Ent bingo'. All this exposure (and the mystery as no-one really knew anything about him) made 'Our Third Ent' a national hero. When one journalist decided to end the saga by reporting that 'Our Third Ent' had gone away but would return one day, all other papers gladly followed the story with confirmations, as they were all tired of it as well. However, this wasn't the end. The public were so caught up in the stories, they believed that when 'Our Third Ent' returned, he would save the world. Quite what was up with the world that it needed saving wasn't known, but the newspaper articles had changed Stavromulan history. The economy disappeared overnight as everyone decided to follow 'Our Third Ent's' example and not pay for anything. The people became nomadic, leaving before any bills arrived, building mighty roads out of bricks made from the yellow sands of the deserts. Throwing up became a regular ritual.
So the foundations of Stavromulan religion were laid, but as everyone read different newspapers, they all had different ideas of 'Our Third Ent's' life on Stavromula and what it would be like when he returned, and so were the various religious sects formed. Some believed 'Our Third Ent' would bring sexual freedom on his return and this sect made love on three 'Our Third Ent' newspaper articles, twice a month, as a sign of faith. Others believed he would settle up all his bills, then find a nice young girl to marry. This sect would spend one day in every eighteen thrashing nice young single girls with a newspaper in preparation.
Twelve sects were formed from the twelve newspapers and although they showed the faith in various ways, all believed in what was widely known as 'The Second Sitting of Our Third Ent.'
CHAPTER 61
"What's happening?" Asked Ford, emerging from a room with Bolo and looking as dishevelled as everyone else, much to his surprise.
"We got hit during a space battle," explained Zaphod, flicking on the scanner screen. "We spun out of control and crash landed on this planet and as you can see, hundreds of it's rather short looking inhabitants are flooding over the desert towards us."
"What are we going to do?" Asked Fenchurch.
"The monkey man is going out to talk to them," said Zaphod, casually.
"What?" Yelled Arthur.
"I knew we should have got him a replacement brain," said Zaphod. "Do you want to know where the tea is before you go?"
"Zaphod! You can't send Arthur out there," exclaimed Trillian. "They could tear him to pieces."
Zaphod declined to comment, but grinned. His teeth acted as a red rag to Arthur. He charged across the bridge, intending to send Zaphod flying, but Zaphod neatly side stepped and Arthur flew past, through a happy door that opened on seeing a body flying towards it and wished Arthur a fruitful journey. Arthur rolled down some stairs and ended up by the main airlock, which gladly hissed open.
Arthur was confronted by hundreds of cheering dwarves.
"Hooray, 'Our Seventh Obu' is dead. Long live our saviour!" They cheered.
Arthur looked down and saw, to his dismay, two stumpy legs sticking out from under the Heart of Gold. He rightly assumed they belonged to 'Our Seventh Obu'. He didn't assume that she was the most infamous critic of Our Third Entism and was widely hated for her outspoken comments. If he had assumed this he would have again been right. He didn't so he apologised.
"Don't apologise," shouted Latigid, the chief Stavromulan. "You have rid us of a blight to our land. What is the name of our hero?"
"Arthur Dent," said Arthur and was astounded when the entire crowd fell to their knees, causing a minor sandstorm. He was joined by the rest of the party, who too were astounded.
"What did you say to them, Arthur?" Asked Ford.
"I just told them my name."
"The Holy One shall wear the slippers of 'Our Seventh Obu' as protection and shall be carried on high to the holy theatre!" Said Latigid.
Many dwarves rushed forward and put the red slippers from 'Our Seventh Obu's' feet on Arthur's feet. They didn't fit but as he was picked up it didn't really matter.
"What about my friends?" Asked Arthur.
"They too shall be carried on high."
On high wasn't particularly high. Arthur's feet dragged along the ground, but it was better than walking. The road looked rough on the feet.
Some one had obviously run ahead to spread the news, as crowds began to line the brick road. Arthur could see a town ahead. The crowds grew larger and Arthur began to enjoy himself. He waved at the crowds and they waved back.
"Oooh, that's Our Third Ent!" Cried one woman, beside herself with excitement, which was quite a trick for a woman of her size.
"He's much bigger than I thought he would be," shouted another person.
One group wasn't cheering. Their sect believed in the Second Sitting, but also believed that Our Third Ent shouldn't have gone away in the first place. They were very devout and probably one of the most boring offshoots of Our Third Entism. They didn't pursue the sexual rituals that most other sects did and didn't have any religious holidays. They were the only sect that believed that Our Third Ent should be punished on his return and the gun that was to exercise that punishment was aimed at Arthur's head.
Arthur, oblivious to this and many other startling facts about this planet, was having a great time. People rushed from the crowd just to be touched by him, something that had never happened on Earth. He wasn't particularly overjoyed by having his feet dragged along the ground and he could feel one of his slippers slipping off. No matter how much he wriggled his toes, it wouldn't stay on. Eventually he bent over and forced it back onto his foot.
At that moment, a bullet whistled through the space that had previously contained his head, continued it's path and lodged itself firmly in the heart of someone standing in the crowd. No-one heard the shot because of all the cheering and those around him assumed the man had suffered a heart attack. They were wrong because fate had deemed this to the man in a former life and for variety had opted for the bullet this time. Arthur saw none of this and could therefore feel no sorrow for Agrajag.
"Arthur," shouted Ford. "This is all very nice, but I imagine that the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation will come looking for us soon."
"But Ford," sighed Zaphod, lapping up the adulation even though it wasn't for him. "The Heart of Gold is one invalid improbability drive ship."