Ford continued to stare at him, slowly organizing his thoughts around
this totally new concept. Were they really going to be able to bareface their way out of this?
Yes, do continue invited the Vogon.
Oh and er interesting rhythmic devices too, continued Arthur, which seemed to counterpoint the er er He floundered.
Ford leaped to his rescue, hazarding counterpoint the surrealism of the underlying metaphor of the er He floundered too, but Arthur was ready again.
humanity of the
Vogonity, Ford hissed at him.
Ah yes, Vogonity (sorry) of the poets compassionate soul, Arthur felt he was on a home stretch now, which contrives through the medium of the verse structure to sublimate this, transcend that, and come to terms with the fundamental dichotomies of the other, (he was reaching a triumphant crescendo) and one is left with a profound and vivid insight into into er ( which suddenly gave out on him.) Ford leaped in with the coup de grace:
Into whatever it was the poem was about! he yelled. Out of the corner of his mouth: Well done, Arthur, that was very good.
The Vogon perused them. For a moment his embittered racial soul had been touched, but he thought notoo little too late. His voice took on the quality of a cat snagging brushed nylon.
So what youre saying is that I write poetry because underneath my mean callous heartless exterior I really just want to be loved, he said. He paused. Is that right?
Ford laughed a nervous laugh. Well I mean yes, he said, dont we all, deep down, you know er
The Vogon stood up.
No, well youre completely wrong, he said, I just write poetry to throw my mean callous heartless exterior into sharp relief. Im going to throw you off the ship anyway. Guard! Take the prisoners to number three airlock and throw them out!
What? shouted Ford.
A huge young Vogon guard stepped forward and yanked them out of their straps with his huge blubbery arms.
You cant throw us into space, yelled Ford, were trying to write a book.
Resistance is useless! shouted the Vogon guard back at him. It was the first phrase hed learnt when he joined the Vogon Guard Corps.
The captain watched with detached amusement and then turned away.
Arthur stared round him wildly.
I dont want to die now! he yelled. Ive still got a headache! I dont want to go to heaven with a headache, Id be all cross and wouldnt enjoy it!
The guard grasped them both firmly round the neck, and bowing deferentially towards his captains back, hoiked them both protesting out of the bridge. A steel door closed and the captain was on his own again. He hummed quietly and mused to himself, lightly fingering his notebook of verses.
Hmmmm, he said, counterpoint the surrealism of the underlying metaphor He considered this for a moment, and then closed the book with a grim smile.
Deaths too good for them, he said.
The long steel-lined corridor echoed to the feeble struggles of the two humanoids clamped firmly under rubbery Vogon armpits.
This is great, spluttered Arthur, this is really terrific. Let go of me you brute!
The Vogon guard dragged them on.
Dont you worry, said Ford, Ill think of something. He didnt sound hopeful.
Resistance is useless! bellowed the guard.
Just dont say things like that, stammered Ford. How can anyone maintain a positive mental attitude if youre saying things like that?
My God, complained Arthur, youre talking about a positive mental attitude and you havent even had your planet demolished today. I woke up this morning and thought Id have a nice relaxed day, do a bit of reading, brush the dog Its now just after four in the afternoon and Im already thrown out of an alien spaceship six light years from the smoking remains of the Earth! He spluttered and gurgled as the Vogon tightened his grip.
Alright, said Ford, just stop panicking.
Who said anything about panicking? snapped Arthur. This is still just the culture shock. You wait till Ive settled down into the situation and found my bearings. Then Ill start panicking.
Arthur youre getting hysterical. Shut up! Ford tried desperately to think, but was interrupted by the guard shouting again.
Resistance is useless!
And you can shut up as well! snapped Ford.
Resistance is useless!
Oh give it a rest, said Ford. He twisted his head till he was looking straight up into his captors face. A thought struck him.
Do you really enjoy this sort of thing? he asked suddenly.
The Vogon stopped dead and a look of immense stupidity seeped slowly over his face.
Enjoy? he boomed. What do you mean?
What I mean, said Ford,
is does it give you a full satisfying life? Stomping around, shouting, pushing people out of spaceships
The Vogon stared up at the low steel ceiling and his eyebrows almost rolled over each other. His mouth slacked. Finally he said, Well the hours are good
Theyd have to be, agreed Ford.
Arthur twisted his head to look at Ford.
Ford, what are you doing? he asked in an amazed whisper.
Oh, just trying to take an interest in the world around me, OK? he said. So the hours are pretty good then? he resumed.