30. NARRATOR: Another thing that no one made too much fuss about was the fact that against all probability a sperm whale had suddenly been called into existence some miles above the surface of an alien planet. And since this is not a naturally tenable position for a whale this innocent creature had very little time to come to terms with its identity as a whale before it had to come to terms with suddenly not being a whale at all. This is what it thought as it fell:
31. EXT. ABOVE THE SURFACE OF MAGRATHEA
SPERM WHALE: Ahhhhh...! What's happening? Ee, excuse me, who am I? Hello? Why am I here? What's my purpose in life? What do I mean by who am I? Calm down, get a grip now... Oh! This is an interesting sensation, what is it? It's a sort of...yawning, tingling sensation in my...my...well, I suppose I’d better start finding names for things if I want to make any headway in what for the sake of what I shall call an argument I shall call the world, so let’s call it my stomach. So, a yawning tingling sensation in my stomach Good. Ooooh, it’s getting quite strong. And hey, what about this whistling, roaring sound going past what I’m suddenly going to call my head? That can be... Wind! Is that a good name? Oh er, It’ll do... perhaps I can find a better name for it later when I've found out what it’s for because there certainly seems to be a hell of a lot of it. Hey! What's this thing? This... let's call it a tail. Yeah! Tail. Hey! I can really thrash it about pretty good, can’t I? Wow! Wow! Hey doesn’t seem to achieve much but I'll probably find out what it's for later on. Now, have I built up any coherent picture of things yet? No. Oh hey, this is really exciting, so much to find out about, so much to look forward to, I'm quite dizzy with anticipation... Or is it the wind? Hey! There really is a lot of that now, isn't there? And wow! What’s this thing suddenly coming toward me very fast? Very, very fast. So big and flat and wide it needs a big wide-sounding word like ...ow...ound...round...ground! That’s it! Ground! I wonder if it’ll be friendly?
There is a loud, wet, splat.
32. NARRATOR: Curiously enough the only thing that went through the mind of the bowl of petunias as it fell was, “Oh, no not again.” Many people have speculated that if we knew exactly why the bowl of petunias had thought that we should know a lot more about the nature of the universe than we do now. Meanwhile the starship has landed on the surface of Magrathea, and Trillian is about to make one of the most important statements of her life. Its importance is not immediately recognised by her companions.
33. INT. HALLWAY NEAR EXIT HATCH, ABOARD THE HEART OF GOLD
Arthur, Zaphod, Ford and Marvin stand at the exit hatch waiting. Trillian runs up and joins them.
TRILLIAN: Hey! My white mice have escaped.
ZAPHOD: Oh, nuts to your white mice.
34. NARRATOR: It is possible that Trillian’s observation would have commanded greater attention had it been generally realised that human beings were only the third most intelligent life-form on the planet Earth, instead of, as was generally thought by most independent observers, the second. The second most intelligent species on Earth were, of course, dolphins, but there was one other species that was even more intelligent. This species spent a lot of their time in behavioral research laboratories running around inside wheels and conducting frighteningly elegant and subtle experiments on man. The fact that once again man completely misinterpreted this relationship was entirely according to these creatures' plans.
33 Cont. INT. HALLWAY NEAR EXIT HATCH, ABOARD THE HEART OF GOLD
FORD (With distaste): Are we taking this robot with us?
With one head, Zaphod looks at the computer screen beside the exit hatch, which displays the blighted landscape that they had just landed on. The other head turns to Ford and says:
ZAPHOD: Oh, the Paranoid Android. Yeah, we'll take him.
FORD: But what are you supposed to do with a manically depressed robot?
MARVIN: You think you've got problems, what are you supposed to do if you are a manically depressed robot? No, don't bother to answer that, I'm fifty thousand times more intelligent than you and even I don't know the answer. It gives me a headache just trying to think down to your level.
EDDIE (In an entirely different but nonetheless similar voice): Good afternoon, boys.
FORD: What's that?
ZAPHOD: It's the Computer. I discovered it had an emergency back-up personality that I thought might work out better.
EDDIE: Now this is going to be your first day out on a strange new planet, so I want you all wrapped up snug and warm, and no playing with any naughty bug-eyed monsters.
Zaphod face-palms with one head and one hand, while the other head says:
ZAPHOD: I'm sorry, I think we might be better off with a slide rule.
EDDIE (Snapping): Right! Who said that?
ZAPHOD (Trying not to get angry): Will you open up the exit hatch, please, computer?
EDDIE: Not until whoever said that owns up.
Ford facepalms this time. You can just hear him slowly counting to ten.
EDDIE (Sternly): Come on.
ZAPHOD: Computer ...
EDDIE: I'm waiting. I can wait all day if necessary ...
ZAPHOD: Computer, if you don't open that exit hatch this moment I shall zap straight off to your major data banks and reprogam you with a very large ax, got that?
Ford continues counting.
EDDIE (Quietly): I can see this relationship is something we're all going to have to work at.
The hatchway opens. The passengers and the crew of the Heart of Gold depart. The hatchway begins to close.
EDDIE (Shouting after them): It'll all end in tears, I know it.
Just as the hatchway is about to close, it stops. Eddie cries out in surprise, and the hatchway opens again. Finally, it closes.
35. EXT. SURFACE OF THE PLANET MAGRATHEA
Zaphod, depressed at the appearance of the planet, stalks off by himself. The others follow slowly, looking around.
ARTHUR: It's fantastic ...
FORD: Desolate hole, if you ask me. I could have more fun in a cat litter.
ARTHUR: No, don't you understand, this is the first time I've actually stood on the surface of another planet ... a whole alien world ... ! Pity it's such a dump though.
Trillian hugs herself, shivering and frowning. They catch up to Zaphod as they mount a ridge. The ridge turns out to be the rim of a crater. Black and red rubbery bits spatter the ground. Large bones protrude from the ground at the center of the crater. At the top of the crater's lip they meet Zaphod.
ZAPHOD: Look ... Come down here. I've got something to show you.
TRILLIAN (Disgusted): We can see it.
ZAPHOD: Not that, something else. Come on. I've found a way in.
ARTHUR (Horrified): In?
ZAPHOD: Into the interior of the planet! An underground passage. The force of the whale's impact cracked it open, and that's where we have to go. Where no man has trod these five million years, into the very depths of time itself ...
MARVIN: Life, loathe it or ignore it, you can't like it.
Zaphod hits him. With little shudders of disgust they all follow Zaphod down the incline into the crater. Where the ground is caved in they find an opening into an underground passageway. They enter, shining flashlights around.
ZAPHOD: According to the legends, the Magratheans lived most of their lives underground.
ARTHUR: Why's that? Did the surface become too polluted or overpopulated?
ZAPHOD: No, I don't think so. I think they just didn't like it very much.
TRILLIAN: Are you sure you know what you are doing? We've been attacked once already, you know.
ZAPHOD: Look, kid, I promise you the live population of this planet is nil plus the four of us, so come on, let's get on in there.
TRILLIAN: The four of us and two mice.
ZAPHOD: Whatever. Hey, Earthman, could you just sort of keep this robot with you and guard this end of the passageway, okay?
ARTHUR: Guard? What from? You just said there's no one here.
ZAPHOD: Yeah, well, just for safety, okay?
ARTHUR: Whose, yours or mine?
ZAPHOD: Good lad. Okay, here we go.
Zaphod scrambles down the passageway, followed by Trillian and Ford.
ARTHUR (Complaining): Well, I hope you all have a really miserable time.
MARVIN: Don't worry, they will.
36. INT. PASSAGEWAY, BENEATH MAGRATHEA
Zaphod marches purposefully down the passageway, flinging around his beam of light. Trillian stops to examine markings on the walls.
TRILLIAN: Hey, have you any idea what these strange symbols are?
ZAPHOD: I think they're just strange symbols of some kind.
Trillian gives him a disgusted look and hurries after him. They pass open doorways revealing what appears to be abandoned computer equipment. Ford drags Zaphod into one to have a look. Trillian follows. While they are looking around, Ford says:
FORD: I've been dying to ask, what's with the whole two heads thing? I mean really, how easy is it to come by a whole other brain these days?
Zaphod laughs and claps Ford on the shoulder with his third hand.
ZAPHOD: No extra brain needed, cuz! I just cut the one I had in half and put one half into each head. Simple!
FORD (Agast): You cut up your own brain?? Why in the galaxy would you do that?
ZAPHOD: Apparently, you can't have whole brain if you want to be President of the Galaxy. Besides, my brain was doing some pretty weird things, like spending all of my spare time looking for things like Magrathea, and not telling me why. So I had to take it apart to learn why I was doing the things that I was doing.
FORD: Why didn't you just see a therapist?
ZAPHOD: I am. But it's a long-distance relationship, so that's hard. Plus, I have better things to do than to sit on a couch talking about myself, as much as I do love talking about myself.
TRILLIAN (Sarcastic): Just try getting him to stop.
FORD: Better things like kidnapping yourself and stealing a starship with the Infinite Improbability Drive, so that you could find Magrathea?
ZAPHOD: Right! Well, I stole it to look for a lot of things.
FORD: A lot of things like what?
ZAPHOD: I don't know.
FORD: You don't know?
ZAPHOD: Look, I'll tell you something. I freewheel a lot. I get an idea to do something, and, hey, why not, I do it. I reckon I'll become President of the Galaxy, and it just happens, it's easy. I decide to steal this ship. I decide to look for Magrathea, and it all just happens. Yeah, I work out how it can best be done, right, but it always works out. And then whenever I stop and think -- why did I want to do something? -- how did I work out how to do it? -- I get a very strong desire just to stop thinking about it. Like I have now. It's a big effort to talk about it.
TRILLIAN: Oh, my God, you never told me this before!
ZAPHOD (Nodding with both heads): So, sure, I had to cut my brain in half to become President, but there's more to it than that. I realized that my mind just didn't seem to work properly. Then it occurred to me that the way it seemed was that someone was using my mind to have good ideas with, without telling me about it. Somebody had locked off part of my mind for that purpose, which was why I couldn't use it. So I cut up my brain looking for that part.
FORD and TRILLIAN goggle, horrified.
ZAPHOD: And then, when I finally cut my brain in half, I found it. A whole section in the middle of each half of my brain that related only to each other and not to anything else around them. Somebody had cauterized all the synapses and electronically traumatized those two lumps of cerebellum.
FORD: Somebody did that to you?
ZAPHOD: Yeah.
FORD: But have you any idea who? Or why?
ZAPHOD: Why? I can only guess. But I do know who the jerk was who did it to me.
TRILLIAN: You know? How do you know?
ZAPHOD: Because they left their initials burned into the cauterized synapses. They left them there for me to see.
FORD and TRILLIAN looked at each other in fresh horror. Then they looked at Zaphod again.
FORD: Well, what were they, for God's sake?
Zaphod two heads look at each other, and there is an uneasy silence for a moment. Then he looks away and says:
ZAPHOD (Quietly): Z.B.
At that moment a steel shutter slammed down behind them and gas started to pour into the chamber.
ZAPHOD (Choking): I'll tell you about it later.
All three of them pass out.
37. NARRATOR: 'The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ is a very unevenly edited book and contains many passages which simply seemed to its editors like a good idea at the time. One of these supposedly relates the experiences of one Veet Voojagig, a quiet young student at the University of Maximegalon who pursued a brilliant academic career studying ancient philology, transformational ethics, and the wave harmonic theory of historical perception, and then, after a night of drinking Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters with Zaphod Beeblebrox, became increasingly obsessed with the problem of what had happened to all the ballpoint pens he bought over the past few years. There followed a long period of painstaking research during which he visited all the major centres of ballpoint pen-loss through out the galaxy, and eventually came up with a rather quaint little theory which quite caught the public imagination at the time. Somewhere in the cosmos, he said, along with all the planets inhabited by Humanoids, reptiloids, fishoids, walking treeoids, and super-intelligent shades of the colour blue, there was also a planet entirely given over to ballpoint pen life-forms. And it was to this planet that unattended pens would make their way. Slipping quietly through wormholes in space to a world where they knew they could enjoy a uniquely pen-oid lifestyle. Responding to highly ballpoint pen-orientated stimuli, in fact, leading the pen equivalent of the good life. And as theories go, this was all very fine and pleasant, until Veet Voojagig suddenly claimed to have found this planet and to have worked there for a while, driving a limousine for a family of cheap green retractables. Where upon he was taken away, locked-up, wrote a book, and was finally sent into tax exile, which is the usual fate reserved for those who are determined to make a fool of themselves in public. When one day an expedition was sent to the spatial coordinates that Voojagig had claimed for this planet, they discovered only a small asteroid inhabited by a solitary old man who claimed repeatedly that nothing was true. Though he was later discovered to be lying. Meanwhile, on the surface of Magrathea, two suns have just set…
38. EXT. SURFACE OF MAGRATHEA
ARTHUR: Night’s falling. Look robot, the stars are coming out.
MARVIN: I know. Wretched isn’t it?
ARTHUR: But that sunset, I’ve never seen anything like it in my wildest dreams! The two suns… It's like mountains of fire boiling into space!
MARVIN: I’ve seen it, it’s rubbish.
ARTHUR: We only ever had the one sun at home. I came from a planet called Earth you know.
MARVIN: I know, you keep going on about it, it sounds awful.
ARTHUR: No, it was a beautiful place.
MARVIN: Did it have… oceans?
ARTHUR: Oh yes. Great wide, rolling, blue oceans.
MARVIN: Can’t bear oceans.
ARTHUR: Tell me, do you get on well with other robots?
MARVIN: Hate them. Where are you going?
ARTHUR: I just think I’ll take a short walk.
MARVIN: Don’t blame you.
SLARTIBARTFAST (Played by Beauregard): Good evening.
ARTHUR: Agh! Who?
SLARTIBARTFAST: You choose a cold night to visit our dead planet.
ARTHUR: Who are you?
SLARTIBARTFAST: My name is not important.
ARTHUR: I, um, you startled me.
SLARTIBARTFAST: Do not be alarmed, I will not harm you.
ARTHUR: You shot at us! There were missiles.
SLARTIBARTFAST: Merely an automatic system. Ancient computers ranged in the long caves deep in the bowels of the planet tick away the dark millennia. I think they take the occasional pot-shot to relieve the monotony. I am a great fan of science you know.
ARTHUR: Really?
SLARTIBARTFAST: Oh yes.
ARTHUR: Ah.
SLARTIBARTFAST: You seem ill at ease.
ARTHUR: Yes, well, no disrespect, but I gathered you were all dead.
SLARTIBARTFAST: Dead? No, we have but slept.
ARTHUR: Slept?
SLARTIBARTFAST: Yes, through the economic recession you see.
ARTHUR: What?
SLARTIBARTFAST: Well five million years ago the galactic economy collapsed, and seeing that custom built planets is something of a luxury commodity. You know we built planets do you?
ARTHUR: Oh, well yes, I sort of gathered.
SLARTIBARTFAST: Fascinating trade. Doing the coastlines was always my favourite. Used to have endless fun doing all the fiddly bits and fjords… Anyway, the recession came, so we decided to sleep through it. We just programmed the computers to revive us when it was all over. They were index linked to the galactic stock market prices you see, so that we’d be revived when everybody else had rebuilt the economy enough to be able to afford our rather expensive services again.
ARTHUR: Good god! That’s a pretty unpleasant way to behave isn’t it?
SLARTIBARTFAST: Is it? I’m sorry, I’m a bit out of touch. You must come with me, great things are afoot, you must come now or you will be late.
ARTHUR: Late? What for?
SLARTIBARTFAST: What is your name human?
ARTHUR: Dent. Arthur Dent.
SLARTIBARTFAST: Late, as in, the late Dentarthurdent. It’s a sort of threat you see. Never been very good at them myself, but I’m told they can be terrible effective.
ARTHUR: Alright, where do we go?
SLARTIBARTFAST: In my aircar. We are going deep into the bowels of the planet, where even now our race is being revived from its five million year slumber. Magrathea awakes! Is this your robot?
MARVIN: No, I'm mine.
ARTHUR: Well, If you can call it a robot. It's more like an electronic sulking machine.
SLARTIBARTFAST: Bring it.
MARVIN (Dragging his heels and complaining): Bring it, bring it.
SLARTIBARTFAST: On second thought, leave it.
MARVIN: Bring it, leave it. I think I'll turn myself off.
ARTHUR: Excuse me. What is your name by the way?
SLARTIBARTFAST: My name is…my name is… Slartibartfast.
ARTHUR (Laughs): He he he. I beg your pardon?!
SLARTIBARTFAST: Slartibartfast.
ARTHUR: Slartibartfast?
The air car starts up.
SLARTIBARTFAST: I said it wasn’t important.
The air car zooms off.
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