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"We'd be lucky if you could muster a light drizzle, Zaphod." Ford felt quite proud of that one.

"Shush," said Zaphod, closing his eyes in a poor attempt to look like he was concentrating. "Ideas, guys, ideas. Arthur?"

"Well if we have to disable the computer," he started, unsure as to whether he would be able to finish. "When we reach the computer, couldn't we just pull the plug?"

"Come on, Arthur," sighed Ford. "We're not dealing with a 13 amp three pin here."

"Well you asked," said Arthur.

"We all make mistakes," said Zaphod. "Ford?"

"We could plug Marvin into it," offered Ford. "Get him to do his version of 'Reasons to be Miserable'. That would destroy anything."

"Possible back up but not spectacular enough," mused Zaphod. "How does this sound? We enter the ventilation system and crawl through the pipes until we reach the computer suite. Then we swoop! We swing down on ropes, screaming in from the sun, well, fluorescent lighting, then pow! Boom! Bang! Swoosh! Kerrang! Bash! Smash! Crunch! A couple more pows and one final boom! Guns ablazing, we destroy the databanks, scorch the CPU and terminate the terminals. Now that's what I call debugging! Strategists will re-enact it for eons to come. 'Zaphod Computer Killer Kits' will be available from all good stockists. Kids will walk around wearing tee shirts emblazoned with 'Now that's what I call debugging' and 'Zaphod say debug, don't do it'. I'll make a fortune."

"Where do we get the ropes?" Asked Arthur. "I don't see any here."

"And if we did have them, where do we tie them to when we swoop?" Furthered Ford. "Do we say 'Excuse me, computer suite guards, could you just look the other way for five minutes while we tie our ropes up so we can do a surprise swooping attack?' Very plausible."

"Boom, pow, no mercy, death to the diodes, murder those microchips...." Zaphod paused, stopped swiping his fist into the palm of one of his other hands, looked at Ford and Arthur then dropped his heads. He lowered his voice to it's most disappointed level. "Okay, we'll use Marvin. Where is he?"

Marvin was wandering. Not a happy, joyful stroll, more a sort of morose meander. Nevertheless, he had a purpose. On the basis of the information he had gained from his limited conversation with Zaphod, Ford and Arthur, he decided to do an improbability sum. He knew where they had been due to a particle analysis test he ran on meeting them again to pass the time. He knew where he was, because he was that sort of robot. He linked his mind modem into Eddie on the Heart of Gold to assess the ship's speed, weight, improbability velocity, relative journey time in nanoseconds, molecular reabsorbtion during flight and the general mood the ship was in during the trip to Sirius. To this he added his knowledge of improbability physics, the space vector correlation, wind factors, quasi-social and semi-structural effects data from previous flights and the general mood he was in. To this he subtracted 42, divided the remainder by the square root of -l and related his answer to the floor layout of the initiative test. He knew that the total opposite of calculated position was where he wanted to go.

The room to which Marvin was heading was locked from the outside, much to the annoyance of it's occupants. They had tried everything they could think of with the candle, box of matches and blank piece of paper they had been left. Lighting the candle with the matches only lit the candle and trying to push the key out with the matches to catch on the piece of paper pushed under the door had no effect. The key was a dud anyway. Trying to burn the door down showed desperation and was doomed from the start but supplied some excuse to vent anger. The same applied to trying to kick down the door.

"There must be a logical solution," said Fenchurch.

"Why?" Asked Bolo. "There's no logical explanation as to why we ended up here, is there?"

"Well it's all very improbable," sighed Trillian. "So I imagine the men had something to do with it as they were using the Heart of Gold tonight."

"Why don't we try burning the matches and writing a note on the paper with the burnt sticks, slip it under the door and perhaps someone will see it," said Fenchurch.

"It's worth a try," said Trillian.

"No it's not," said Marvin as the door slid open to a jovial 'happy service'.

"Marvin!" Cried Trillian. She flung her arms around him. "Are we glad to see you."

"No you're not," sulked Marvin.

"We are," said Fenchurch. "We thought we'd be stuck here for days."

"How did you open the door?" Asked Trillian.

"Simple," said Marvin. "I said 'Macaroni'."

"Is that logical?" Asked Fenchurch.

"Look," started Marvin, making it perfectly clear he didn't want to. "If you had held the paper over the candle lit by the matches, then the word 'Macaroni' would have appeared."

"I take it this is the Marvin you told me about," said Bolo.

"Well it sounds like him," said Trillian. "Marvin, I thought you were, er....."

"Yes, so did I," moaned Marvin. "Come on, we've got work to do."

Zaphod, Ford and Arthur were in a long hallway with a door at the end and one either side of them. Their search for Marvin had been fruitless.

"Where on Betelgeuse is that robot?" Asked Ford.

"Perhaps he's behind one of these doors," said Arthur in his best 'I'll offer a solution but someone else can follow it up type voice.

"Only one way to find out," said Zaphod as he raised his Neutron-Breaking Desolation Ray Gun. A roar reminiscent of a Disaster Area power chord overwhelmed Ford's cries of disagreement. The door at the end of the corridor wasn't any longer. However, making quite an impressive replacement for it was a Ravenous Bug-Blatter Beast of Traal. Zaphod and Arthur felt considerably more threatened by that than they did by the door. Zaphod disappeared through the door to Ford's right, Arthur through the door on Ford's left.

"Don't run," yelled Ford to two slammed doors. He quickly threw his towel over his head, having read many years ago in the Guide that the Ravenous Bug-Blatter Beast of Traal is so stupid, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you. The beast brushed past Ford disappointed at losing its prey so quickly. Ford thanked his lucky stars and galaxies that for once the Guide wasn't hypocriful or wildly misleading.

Arthur found himself in a long thin corridor. Above him were four huge green girders and above these was an ominous void. Arthur held his gun firmly in his hand, or as firmly as his sweaty palms would allow. He looked up between two of the girders and to his horror saw rows of coloured creatures forming above him. In panic he took a pot shot at them and to his surprise he hit one. The creature disappeared, but there was another right on top of the recently created space. Arthur's pot shot obviously angered the creatures because they all started scuttling to the right in unison and firing back. Arthur dived under a girder. Drawing a deep breath, he leapt between two girders and fired furiously at the creatures, watching for the counter fire. The creatures kept changing their direction and dropping closer to the girders. Arthur was so overjoyed at clearing a column, he didn't notice the lightening bolt until it was too late. He was sent flying. As soon as he scrambled to his feet, the creatures started firing again. Arthur noticed the bolts were eating into his protective girders and the creatures were getting lower. He decided to give up on the passing space ships. He had hit one by mistake and all that happened was that the number 200 appeared in the void. Arthur didn't have the time to ponder the significance of this. He just kept on firing.

Zaphod, meanwhile, found himself in a zoo. At least that's what he thought it was. He was standing by a glass cage looking at four curious animals. They looked like mutated octopi, with short stubby tentacles that they used to move around on.