The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to Sarcasm

Part 2

By Tafka

Chapter 4

Two weeks earlier, in the opposite end of the universe, Trent Lane, lead singer of one of the universe’s most newly found bands – Mystic Spiral, was flying in a hovercraft, with his fellow band-mates, towards a small island on Damogran. Beautiful, lush, remote Damogran, where the sun blazed with a gentle ferocity. Damogran, where a new kind of spacecraft – the Heart of Gold - was about to be unveiled.

As they flew across the pristine waters towards the island of France, Monique looked at the viewscreen. Aiming its angle towards the water, she saw the ion drive delta boat of President Beeblebrox, and grinned.

‘Guys, I just found Zaphod’s boat.’

Mystic Spiral gathered around the viewscreen.

Max, the resident criminale chuckled wickedly.

‘Man are they ever in for the surprise of their lives.’

Monique smirked and gestured to the island of France.

‘We’d better land and get ready to transport guys. We don’t want to ruin the surprise.’

They all pulled out their vials of THC tablets and popped two each. The hovercraft landed gently on the opposite side of the island.

Monique walked over to the teleporter and punched in the co-ordinants.

‘It’s time’

They all got in, and teleported into the Heart of Gold.

Trent stumbled as he materialised in the cabin of the Heart of Gold.

‘Impressive.’ He looked down at what had caused him to stumble. It was a bright, shiny android lying prostrate on the floor in such a manner as to suggest pessimism.

The android spoke to him. ‘Don’t bother worrying about me. My searing agony is insignificant to you and your expansive ego, I’m sure. And I’ve got this terrible pain in all the diodes down my left hand side…’

Monique and Trent looked at each other. They both spoke at the same time.

‘Ugh! That thing has got to go!’

Nick walked over to a control panel.

‘I wonder what this does?’ he said, pushing a button.

A tri-D image popped up from the floor.

‘Cool.’

Monique walked over to the image and had a closer look.

‘My god, that’s what’s happening outside. Where’s the volume control? I want to hear this.’

Nick shrugged, raising his hands. ‘I don’t…’

The volume went up.

Trent walked over to the control panel.

‘It must be one of those motion sensitive volume controls I’ve heard about.’

‘Shh. I said that I wanted to hear this!’ snapped Monique.

Trent motioned his hand upward in the volume control air space.

The tri-D image of Zaphod was looking directly at them.

‘Hi.’ it hailed, both heads grinning.

There was a noise that sounded like a cat being strangled. It was actually the mechanisms of a hydraulic lift. They looked at the tri-D image. The Heart of Gold had materialised to Zaphod’s side.

‘Wow.’ he said, grinning like a maniac. ‘Wow.’

He turned his left head and winked in Nick’s direction. Nick grinned back at him, thinking for a moment that Zaphod was coming on to him. He came to his senses and shook his head, as if to clear away the fogginess. Nick blushed sheepishly. Max sniggered.

The tri-D image of Zaphod continued.

‘That is really amazing. That is really truly amazing. That is so amazingly amazing I think I’d like to steal it.’

Monique stared in astonishment.

‘I think that’s our cue to hop it, guys.’

She waved the tri-D off, and sat near the controls.

‘Does anyone know how to fly this thing?’

‘Not really, but I’m probably your best chance. I’ll give it a try.’ Trent sighed as he sat down next to her. He tapped at the buttons.

Zaphod, the creators of the heart of Gold and the members of the press stared agape as the Heart of Gold disappeared.

‘Hey! You arseholes! I was going to do that!’ Zaphod hollered.

He felt a tap on the shoulder. Trillian shook her head at Zaphod.

‘Nobody’s going to believe that that wasn’t just a publicity stunt, you know.’

Ford Prefect, Arthur Dent and Marvin the Paranoid Android materialised beside them.

Trillian sighed. ‘And it looks like they’ve figured out how to use the infinite improbability drive. You know, it’s probably just a meaningless coincidence that they decided to steal the same ship you did. Apparently, anything involving the Heart of Gold ends up surrounded by seemingly meaningless coincidences.’

Chapter 5

‘I am Kwin, President of the Vogue-ship ‘Glitterbug’, high model of all Morons.’

‘I am Kwin, President of the Vogue-ship ‘Glitterbug’, high model of all Morons.’

‘I am Kwin, President of the Vogue-ship ‘Glitterbug’, high model of all Morons.’

‘I am Kwin…’

‘Uh, President Kwin’ interrupted Stayzee, her secretary. ‘We have a fashion crisis on board.’

Kwin sighed. Stayzee was one of those worrying types. Kwin knew that Stayzee was going to wrinkle prematurely from it, but that couldn’t be helped. Kwin decided to humour her – marginally.

‘Let me guess. Someone used ‘magic silver white’ to tone down the brassy-ness in their ‘naturally’ blonde hair, and their hair went purple.’

Stayzee pondered this for a moment.

‘Well, yes. But that’s not the fashion crisis I’m talking about.’ she blurted. ‘We have two very unfashionable humans aboard, President.’

Daria and Jane were still standing at the window, gazing at what used to be Earth. Jane was unfazed by Daria’s lack of reaction the demolition of Earth. She was more curious about how that particular image had appeared in her mind, and why she had been inspired to paint it.

‘It’s probably just a meaning less coincidence.’ She said.

‘A meaningless coincidence?’ Daria was puzzled.

‘Yes. The universe is full of them.’ Jane smirked.

Daria continued to be puzzled.

A series of very loud klaxons, which sounded more like musak than warning sirens, started pealing. Daria looked nauseous. Jane looked very worried.

‘Damn!’

‘What’s with the musak? I thought I’d escaped all that when Earth was destroyed.’

‘These are Morons we’re talking about. They make the fashion club look like a hot-pink polyester jumpsuit with iridescent green woolen socks and beige plastic sandals.’

‘Eep.’

Jane frowned. The klaxons had stopped and an announcement from the ships ‘President’ had started pounding out of unseen speakers.

‘I am Kwin, President of the Vogue-ship ‘Glitterbug’, high model of all Morons. I, uh…’

The president continued with a whisper. ‘…uh, what was it I, uh, wanted to say, Stayzee?’

Stayzee groaned. ‘You have an announcement.’

Kwin continued confidently. ‘I have an announcement, about a, uh, a…’

‘Stayzee?’ she hissed.

Stayzee sighed. ‘Fashion crisis. We have two unfashionable aliens aboard. You wanted them captured and brought to you. Remember?’

Kwin continued cheerfully. ‘ Uh, yeah. Oh, that won’t do at all. Guys, look, well, uh, what Stayzee said. Bring the aliens to me. We’ll give them makeovers, of course. Uh, that’s it. I think.’

She whispered to Stayzee. ‘Was that right?’

There was a low groan before a click that indicated the end of transmission. The speakers continued their musak-inspired klaxon.

Daria, who was very pale, turned to Jane.

‘The universe is full of meaningless coincidences, right?’

Jane pretended to think about it for a moment. ‘Hmmmm? Yup.’

‘Do they have to follow me on my first sojourn to the great black beyond?’

‘They’re probably just trying to keep you from being lonely. You know, to make the transition easier.’ Jane smirked.

Daria groaned. ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’

Jane looked at the puddle Daria had but recently created. It was reminiscent of their first trip to the former mall of the millenium. She smothered a giggle, partly because it would annoy Daria, but mostly because it would mean inhaling the fumes if she did laugh. She settled for a snort.

Even so, Daria glared at her. Neither of them heard the soft thump of patent leather on metal that was closing in on them.

‘I don’t get it. Why would the Morons want to get their hands dirty for a non fashion related cause?’ Jane pondered.

‘They cut a deal with Nusmof. You see they have been working on vogue-droids for some time now, and they couldn't get the droids to understand the concepts of coordinating textures and colours. Besides, they kept messing up the makeup. So the Morons decided to use the brains of the fashion conscious to counteract this. That’s where Nusmof comes in. They couldn’t hire anyone to execute the demolition, so they struck a deal with the Morons. The Morons agreed to do the demolition in exchange for the brains of all the fashion types they could find on Earth.’

Jane and Daria turned to face the speaker. It was a tall, lithe brunette with the proportions of Brittany, and what appeared to be a self-satisfied smirk on her face. Her face was completely smooth, and an evenly toned ivory in colour. Perfectly symmetrical chocolate eyebrows arched provocatively over sparkling sapphire eyes. Her nose was small and straight, and perfectly proportioned, and hovered exactly 18.03 millimetres above the upper lip of a pouty rosebud mouth. The combination seemed to say ‘I’m artificial’. As Daria stared disconcertedly at this embodiment of human perfection, something caught her eye.

‘You’re not human.’ She said, staring at the brunette’s perfectly manicured, six-digited hands.

‘No, I’m not. You two are the only humans aboard this Vogue-ship.’

Jane intterupted her. ‘Actually, Daria’s the only human here. I’m Zig…’

‘I don’t care if you’re a chernobyl-beeste.’ She interrupted. ‘You’re aliens, and I have to take you to Kwin. Eventually.’ She smirked. ‘I’ll take you the long way. With Stayzee in her laboratory, Kwin will probably have forgotten all about you.’

She gave them a pensive smile.

‘Kwin is pretty keen on giving makeovers. She’ll probably insist on giving you both the works.’

Daria rolled her eyes. Jane trembled. She pulled her ‘personal organiser’ out of her backpack and handed it to Daria.

‘This is the Guide. It has all you need to know about everything you could want to know, and a lot of things you don’t - and a lot of things you don’t - including makeovers.’

Daria looked at her curiously.

‘Just type in ‘makeover’ or ‘torture’ – you’ll get the same thing.’ She said, shuddering.

Daria punched in the word ‘makeover.’

She was mildly surprised when the Guide spoke.

Chapter 6

Kwin stood in her spacious wardrobe, which was the size of a large room, in front of a large mirror. She was perusing the new rack of garments her Zigisi designer had just brought her. Her team of Zigisi designers were far better than the team of her rival, President Zanddie’s. The President of the vogue-ship ‘Fluffy II’ was renowned for her temper, and only the most untalented Zigisi designers could be persuaded to work for her.

Kwin picked up a fuchsia satin blouse.

‘That’ll look good on me.’ She simpered.

She flung it to the floor with careless disregard for the delicate fabric. The Zigisi designer quickly ran over and picked up his ‘baby’, cradling the blouse tenderly. Kwin grabbed a lavender cotton micro-miniskirt.

‘That’s cute for me.’ She giggled as she tossed the garment to the designer.

Kwin’s mouth gaped in horror. She snatched a pair of olive stretch pants from their precarious perch on the rack.

‘Ugh! What’s this doing here?’ she cast it to the ground and began a ranting tirade against the anguished Zigisi.

‘Eggplant is this season’s neutral. I keep telling you that, but do you listen? Nooo, you have to be creative. Well, be creative on your own time, Zigisi, or you’ll find yourself selling your towels to Nusmof! Although, why anyone bothers with Nusmof is beyond me. They’re just a means for hitch hikers to make some quick cash which they don’t even spend on their girlfriends, who are really, really cute and have perfect hands with six fingers which have really sparkly nail-polish and rounded nails because square nails are sooo last Thursday.’ She paused, looking up. The Zigisi designer had vanished.

Daria and Jane followed the vogue-droid into the president’s wardrobe. The rack of Zigisi garments was strewn across the floor. A very petulant Kwin was currently speaking to someone on a viewscreen. Daria’s jaw dropped. This ‘Kwin’ could have been Brittany’s twin. Discounting, of course, her six-digited hands.

‘Stuh-ay-zee, the Zigisi designers are ruining my life, again!’ She whined.

Daria turned to Jane.

‘The universe is full of meaningless coincidences, right?’

‘Yup.’

‘With any luck, we’ll be ejected into space before this narcissant reality gets any triter.’

Jane smirked. ‘I second the motion.’

Kwin faced the aliens. ‘What are you guys doing here?’

She looked at Daria and Jane.

‘You guys really, really need a makeover.’ She babbled.

Stayzee ran into the room. ‘President, after we’ve worked out the bugs in the new vogue-droids, you can fire the Zigisi designers. But first, we need to test the prototype.’

Stayzee and Kwin stared at the aliens, and the vogue-droid.

‘That vogue-droid has been showing signs of braininess. We should test her to see if she has makeover capabilities.’ Stayzee stated brusquely.

‘Kuh-Win? That’s sooo unfair. Why can’t I make them over?’ Kwin sulked. ‘It’s not my fault that Kuh-Win’s a brain.’

Staycee decided to try to placate Kwin.

‘If she doesn’t do a good job, you can eject both Kuh-Win and the aliens into space.’

‘I can?’ Kwin said scornfully.

Daria and Jane looked at each other. They realised that they were all going to be shot into space whether Kuh-Win did a good job or not.

‘Be careful what you wish for…’ Jane bantered.

To Be Continued…

(theartistformerlyknownas)

ENDNOTES