Thursday, July 14, 2005

A Hitch Hiker's Guide To The Tempest

Here's something I had lying around my computer,I have'nt written it,by the way.

TEMPESTHITCHHIKER REMIX
Written with appologies to Douglas Adams and Shakespeare

ACT I,scene i

Enter Slartibartfast and Trillian

Slartibartfast: Trillian
Trillian: Here, Slartibartfast. What's up dear?
Slartibartfast: Trillian, speak to Eddy. Quickly (impatient) or we'll hit a star, pronto pronto.
Eddy: You rang.
Trillian: Hey Eddy; be happy be good for once; Prepare the ship! Do what Slartibartfast (oh what a Hunk! ) says. He knows best. Take us through this asteroid belt quickly, and mind the...ah...black hole on the left there.

Enter Arthur, Ford and Marvin

Arthur: Ah! Trillian I see you're working. Where's Slarti?
Trillian: Go away, get back to your room.
Arthur: Where is he, the old town planner? (Aside) Very clever with town planning he is. See he doesn't start with the buildings, he actually starts with the dirt. He says it gives you that individual flair.
Trillian: Can't you see we are trying to save the ship. Go back to your space. If you don't go we will never get through this asteroid belt and we'll hit that black hole on the left. What care these asteroids have for the great President Beeblebrox? To your space. Silence, we're working.
Ford: Great but just remember it's the President we have aboard.
Trillian: There is no other that I love more than myself. If you are able by some art to command these asteroids to their own quarters and make them give up and insult some other weirdly craft. No...I thought not, so look happy and just sod off.
Arthur: I have great faith in thee Slartibartfast. He has never crashed, he knows the ropes, he'll pull us through. A bit like Qantas when you think about it.
Trillian: Steer it gently Eddy steer her, bring her back to main course. Eddy be careful they are monstrous asteroids, careful, steer her right...no left...now left...left a bit more...too much...back right...
Eddy: Would you stop it I know my job, I don't need some one to tell me what to do. Hey guys don't you realise I'm Eddy your friendly shipboard computer here to help YOU and make our journey as comfortable as possible.
Trillian: Shut-up, Eddy what was that a bump, a scrape, perhaps the BLACK HOLE.
Arthur: Stop it you...you dog. I curse you!
Trillian: If you think yourself so clever then why don't you help. Do some work. All the trip you sit in your space playing with that silly thing in your ear.
Arthur: It's not silly it's a Babble fish I might tell you and a very good one at that...bred on the shores of - well I don't know, some bloody good place far off in that part of the galaxy where they wear there skin inside out. I think your a wimp and are scared, Squirede cat sitting on a lion's mat. I indeed do think we will get sucked into the black hole and we will all die.
Trillian: Be quiet! Eddy.
Eddy: Hello there, you rang. Is there anybody there who wants some Tea? I have just put the kettle on.
Trillian: What are you making tea for at a time like this? Can't you see, or haven't you been steering. We are going towards the BLACK HOLE. Eddy now pay attention. Do a uey and get us out of here.
Eddy: No use darlings, there is no way out of this. Nice knowing you guys but I'd like to say guys now would be a good time for you all to gather around in a circle and say a few mantras or discuss what you think happens after you die.
Trillian: A breeze I feel, my body its warping, softening and bending unusual directions. Arthur stop acting like a penguin. My foot has drifted into the back of the console...where's my left arm...Hey Zaphod that's not fair.
Arthur: I see Zaphod you just go and don your peril sensitive glasses and not do anything.
Zaphod: Hey look monkey it's OK by me if you wish to splay yourself all over this cool cabin and turn yourself into funny shapes but just don't do it while I'm watching. Look can't you see I'm in the middle of a crisis, what with my arm flying off with that towel over there...
Eddy: Hello guys I hope you are enjoying the trip. We have entered the black hole and what a pretty sight it is outside, there goes Dame Edna, such pretty colours. Everything out there.
Arthur: Look at us this is getting ridiculous...my arm.
Zaphod: Guys this is great fun but it seems to have the sort of effect on my head as a Pan Galactic Gargleblaster. Ouch!
Ford: Mercy on us dear God save us. Goodbye life, goodbye Arthur, Goodbye Zaphod, goodbye all, goodbye. I'll take the shuttle craft and see you guys on the other side a bit latter, ie Heaven. Ciao.
Eddy: I should like to inform you all at this moment in time that I am not equipped with any shuttle craft but I have booked some to be placed on board when we next dock into a service station.
Arthur: I'm staying to protect the president.

To be continued...(ie,if anybody wants it to)

7 comments:

Deep said...

STOP!STOP!STOP! This is the worst piece of trash I've read in a long time (and that includes Old English poetry). Have a heart, take pity on Mssrs. Adams and Shakespeare, and don't post the rest of it.

aneelirh said...

i agree with deep on this one.

Srin said...

*ouch* isshhhh,sorry,i thought it was funny.

Teleute said...

jesus! it is funny, yes, bt in a i-wud-like-to-torture-m-enemies-w/-dis sorta way.
:D

babelfish said...

I'd say this goes one up on Vogon poetry......

Vogon poetry is of course the third worst in the Universe. The second worst is that of the Azagoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode To A Small Lump of Green Putty I Found In My Armpit One Midsummer Morning"four of his audience died of internal haemorrhaging, and the President of
the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. Grunthos is reported to have been "disappointed" by the poem's reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his twelve book epic entitled My Favourite Bathtime Gurgles when his own major
intestine, in a desperate attempt to save life and civilization, leapt straight up through his neck and throttled his brain. The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Greenbridge, Essex, England in the destruction of the planet Earth.

courtesy DNA

babelfish said...

umm..please don't take this personally...I really enjoy your blog :D

Srin said...

hehe,now this is JUST too mean...arre,people read my blog? :D