Fifteen seconds later he was out of the house and lying in front of a big yellow bulldozer that was advancing up his garden path.
Mr. L. Prosser was, as they say, only human. In other words he was a carbon-based life form descended from an ape. More specifically he was forty, fat and shabby and worked for the local council. Curiously enough, though he didnt know it, he was also a direct male-line descendant of Genghis Khan, though intervening generations and racial mixing had so juggled his genes that he had no discernible Mongoloid characteristics, and the only vestiges left in Mr. L Prosser of his mighty ancestry were a pronounced stoutness about the tum and a predilection for little fur hats.
He was by no means a great warrior:
in fact he was a nervous worried man. Today he was particularly nervous and worried because something had gone seriously wrong with his jobwhich was to see that Arthur Dents house got cleared out of the way before the day was out.
Come off it, Mr. Dent, he said, you cant win you know. You cant lie in front of the bulldozer indefinitely. He tried to make his eyes blaze fiercely but they just wouldnt do it.
Arthur lay in the mud and squelched at him.
Im game, he said, well see who rusts first.
Im afraid youre going to have to accept it, said Mr. Prosser gripping his fur hat and rolling it round the top of his head, this bypass has got to be built and its going to be built!
First Ive heard of it, said Arthur, whys it going to be built?
Mr. Prosser shook his finger at him for a bit, then stopped and put it away again.
What do you mean, whys it got to be built? he said. Its a bypass. Youve got to build bypasses.
Bypasses are devices which allow some people to drive from point A to point B very fast whilst other people dash from point B to point A very fast. People living at point C, being a point directly in between, are often given to wonder whats so great about point A that so many people of point B are so keen to get there, and whats so great about point B that so many people of point A are so keen to get there. They often wish that people would just once and for all work out where the hell they wanted to be.
Mr. Prosser wanted to be at point D. Point D wasnt anywhere in particular, it was just any convenient point a very long way from points A, B and C. He would have a nice little cottage at point D, with axes over the door, and spend a pleasant amount of time at point E, which would be the nearest pub to point D. His wife of course wanted climbing roses, but he wanted axes. He didnt know whyhe just liked axes. He flushed hotly under the derisive grins of the bulldozer drivers.
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, but it was equally uncomfortable on each. Obviously somebody had been appallingly incompetent and he hoped to God it wasnt him.
Mr. Prosser said: You were quite entitled to make any suggestions or protests at the appropriate time you know.
Appropriate time? hooted Arthur. Appropriate time? The first I knew about it was when a workman arrived at my home yesterday. I asked him if hed come to clean the windows and he said no hed come to demolish the house. He didnt tell me straight away of course. Oh no. First he wiped a couple of windows and charged me a fiver. Then he told me.
But Mr. Dent, the plans have been available in the local planning office for the last nine month.
Oh yes, well as soon as I heard I went straight round to see them, yesterday afternoon. You hadnt exactly gone out of your way to call attention to them, had you? I mean like actually telling anybody or anything.
But the plans were on display
On display? I eventually had to go down to the cellar to find them.
Thats the display department.
With a torch.
Ah, well the lights had probably gone.
So had the stairs.
But look, you found the notice didnt you?
Yes, said Arthur, yes I did. It was on display in the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory with a sign on the door saying Beware of the Leopard .
A cloud passed overhead. It cast a shadow over Arthur Dent as he lay propped up on his elbow in the cold mud. It cast a shadow over Arthur Dents house. Mr. Prosser frowned at it.
Its not as if its a particularly nice house, he said.
Im sorry, but I happen to like it.
Youll like the bypass.
Oh shut up, said Arthur Dent. Shut up and go away, and take your bloody bypass with you. You havent got a leg to stand on and you know it.
Mr. Prossers mouth opened and closed a couple of times while his mind was for a moment filled with inexplicable but terribly attractive visions of Arthur Dents house being consumed with fire and Arthur himself running screaming from the blazing ruin with at least three hefty spears protruding from his back. Mr. Prosser was often bothered with visions like these and they made him feel very nervous. He stuttered for a moment and then pulled himself together.
Mr. Dent, he said.
Hello? Yes? said Arthur.
Some factual information for you. Have you any idea how much damage that bulldozer would suffer if I just let it roll straight over you?