The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy | Page 5

it and pour spirit into the glass of his opponent {
who would then have to drink it. The bottle would then be relled. The game would be played again. And
again. Once you started to lose you would probably keep losing, because one of
the eects of Janx spirit is to depress telepsychic power.
As soon as a predetermined quantity had been consumed, the nal loser
would have to perform a forfeit, which was usually obscenely biological. Ford Prefect usually played to lose.
Ford stared at Arthur, who began to think that perhaps he did want to
go to the Horse and Groom after all.
"But what about my house . . . ?" he asked plaintively.
Ford looked across to Mr. Prosser, and suddenly a wicked thought struck
him. "He wants to knock your house down?"
"Yes, he wants to build . . . "
10

"And he can't because you're lying in front of the bulldozers?"
"Yes, and . . . "
"I'm sure we can come to some arrangement," said Ford. "Excuse me!"
he shouted. Mr. Prosser (who was arguing with a spokesman for the bulldozer drivers
about whether or not Arthur Dent constituted a mental health hazard, and
how much they should get paid if he did) looked around. He was surprised
and slightly alarmed to nd that Arthur had company. "Yes? Hello?" he called. "Has Mr. Dent come to his senses yet?"
"Can we for the moment," called Ford, "assume that he hasn't?"
"Well?" sighed Mr. Prosser.
"And can we also assume," said Ford, "that he's going to be staying here
all day?" "So?"
"So all your men are going to be standing around all day doing nothing?"
"Could be, could be . . . "
"Well, if you're resigned to doing that anyway, you don't actually need
him to lie here all the time do you?" "What?"
"You don't," said Ford patiently, "actually need him here."
Mr. Prosser thought about this.
"Well no, not as such . . . ", he said, "not exactly need. . . "
Prosser was worried. He thought that one of them wasn't making a lot
of sense. Ford said, "So if you would just like to take it as read that he's actually
here, then he and I could slip o down to the pub for half an hour. How does
that sound?" Mr. Prosser thought it sounded perfectly potty.
"That sounds perfectly reasonable," he said in a reassuring tone of voice,
wondering who he was trying to reassure.
"And if you want to pop o for a quick one yourself later on," said Ford,
"we can always cover up for you in return." "Thank you very much," said Mr. Prosser who no longer knew how to
play this at all, "thank you very much, yes, that's very kind . . . " He frowned,
then smiled, then tried to do both at once, failed, grasped hold of his fur hat
and rolled it tfully round the top of his head. He could only assume that
he had just won. "So," continued Ford Prefect, "if you would just like to come over here
and lie down . . . "
"What?" said Mr. Prosser.
11

"Ah, I'm sorry," said Ford, "perhaps I hadn't made myself fully clear.
Somebody's got to lie in front of the bulldozers haven't they? Or there won't
be anything to stop them driving into Mr. Dent's house will there?"
"What?" said Mr. Prosser again.
"It's very simple," said Ford, "my client, Mr. Dent, says that he will stop
lying here in the mud on the sole condition that you come and take over from
him."
"What are you talking about?" said Arthur, but Ford nudged him with
his shoe to be quiet. "You want me," said Mr. Prosser, spelling out this new thought to him-
self, "to come and lie there . . . " "Yes."
"In front of the bulldozer?"
"Yes."
"Instead of Mr. Dent."
"Yes."
"In the mud."
"In, as you say it, the mud."
As soon as Mr. Prosser realized that he was substantially the loser after
all, it was as if a weight lifted itself o his shoulders: this was more like the
world as he knew it. He sighed.
"In return for which you will take Mr. Dent with you down to the pub?"
"That's it," said Ford. "That's it exactly."
Mr. Prosser took a few nervous steps forward and stopped.
"Promise?" he said.
"Promise," said Ford. He turned to Arthur.
"Come on," he said to him, "get up and let the man lie down."
Arthur stood up, feeling as if he was in a dream.
Ford beckoned to Prosser who sadly, awkwardly, sat down in the mud. He
felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered
whose it was and whether they were enjoying it. The mud folded itself round
his bottom and his arms and oozed into his shoes. Ford looked at him severely.
"And no sneaky knocking down Mr. Dent's house whilst he's away, al-
right?" he said.
"The mere thought," growled Mr. Prosser, "hadn't even begun to spec-
ulate," he continued, settling himself back, "about the merest possibility of
crossing my mind." He saw the bulldozer driver's union