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"They're so nice, aren't they?" Sighed Fenchurch. "I never expected aliens to be so polite."

"They are not all like that, there were these creatures I once met called the Vogons and they...." The ship lurched out of hyperspace and Arthur's stomach lurched out of place. He stood up but his body didn't want to leave before any of it's vital organs and slumped down again.

"I could do without that," groaned Fenchurch.

"You should try matter transference, or rather you shouldn't. It makes coming out of hyperspace seem like coming out of a sauna."

"Remind me not to try matter transference."

"I'll do my best."

They gingerly stood up and went to the front of the ship. The Xoloho children had already disembarked and Mrs Xoloho was disentangling herself from the controls. Arthur walked out and into the Ship Park. There were about two dozen ships of varying sizes parked. Arthur saw two people going from ship to ship.

"Hitch-hikers," thought Arthur. Then he saw one of them wearing an irritating grin. He couldn't believe it.

"Ford!" Yelled Arthur. Ford looked up, grabbed Bob's hand and ran over to Arthur.

"We meet again," said Arthur, shaking Ford's free hand.

"Yes," replied Ford. "Did you get to see Cod's Final Message?"

"We did and very..

"I think it's overrated," interrupted Ford, grinning with the knowledge that he had irritated Arthur.

"We met Marvin."

"The paranoid android? How is the old misery?"

"I've got some of what's left of him in this carrier bag."

"Arthur, this is Bolo." Ford modelled his flow of conversation on Brownian motion principles.

"Hello, Polo. Is that like the mint with..

"No, it's spelt with a B." Ford realised Arthur was grinning. It irritated him, which was the precise reason why Arthur was grinning. Ford's grin slipped slightly.

Arthur shook Bob's hand and wanted to borrow her smile. He could win friends and influence people with a smile like that.

"What are you up to anyway?" Asked Ford, irritated this time by the length of the handshake.

"Well I was going to visit Zaphod with Fenchurch, she's in the ship over there, doing some adapting of some sort," said Arthur, casually pointing in the direction of half a dozen ships.

"Oh, so you're off to Zaphod's wedding too?" Asked Bob.

Arthur's jaw dropped and he looked at Ford in disbelief. Arthur's brain took no responsibility for his jaw as it showed great indecision.

"Zaphod? Married? To Trillian?" He blurted out.

"Yes to all three." Ford was glad he had the upper hand again. Fenchurch joined them.

"Hello, Ford. Nice to see you again. Nice to see you sober as well

"Fenchurch, this is Bob. Bob, this is Fenchurch. Could you go and get us some food?" Ford said, in his best 'could you please go and leave us alone so we can have a private talk' voice. They obliged.

"Zaphod?" Arthur was speechless bar that one word.

"Didn't you know? It's the biggest news since Eccentrica Gallumbits, the triple-breasted whore of Eroticon 6, opened her night club planet

"Didn't you say they had some kids?"

"Yeah, he's going to do the decent thing," grinned Ford. "First time for everything."

"I'm stunned." Arthur wasn't lying.

"Not as much as you will be." Ford looked over his shoulder to make sure the women were out of hearing range. "When I say 'wedding' what's the first thing you think of?"

"Rice down the back of my neck from a lousy shot."

"No, no, before the wedding!"

"Getting a present?"

"You're missing my point!" Yelled Ford. He took a deep breath and continued. "What do the men do the night before a wedding?"

"Go on a Stag night!" Arthur felt enlightened then thought of the other stag night he had been on. True, everyone got fairly drunk but he got separated from the crowd on the way to Soho and ended up in Waterloo Station. Those who did make it to Soho were arrested and missed the wedding and as Arthur was the only one from the stag night to turn up, all the guests took it out on him.

"Right! And Zaphod's will go down in the guide as the greatest ever!" Ford found himself doing a little dance in celebration. Mr Xoloho came over to them.

"We'll be ready in about five minutes," he said to Arthur.

"Could you take two more hitch-hikers?" Asked Arthur. "I've known this one for countless years and I know he won't give you any trouble."

"Sure, the more the merrier." He turned and returned to the ship.

"These are nice people, so please behave." Pleaded Arthur.

"You know me." Ford played his winning stroke backed up by his best grin. Arthur made a mental note to try harder in future.

Zaphod lounged on the patio by the swimming pool. His estate was right by the tropical sea, but he had a swimming pool all the same. Status symbols only served their purpose if they were never used. He turned a dial, which raised his sun bed a further two inches off the ground and tilted it a few more degrees. One of his heads drained a tropical drink as the other called for another. A cocktail robot flitted over to him and filled the glass. The robot was the only one of it's kind to be programmed to mix a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster the traditional way. It had cost a fortune, but Zaphod felt it was worth it. Trillian's sun bed floated along side his. She had a beautiful tan.

"Are you going to the office today?" She asked without turning.

"Nah, too nice a day."

"Every day here is the same."

"I know, great isn't it?" Mellowed Zaphod. "Besides, Heart of Gold is in for 12,000 omp service."

"How long will that take?" Trillian actually turned her head.

"I don't know. The bastards have it overnight, so they can do the galaxy, try and impress some chicks with it, recover, give it a couple of kicks, leave greasy fingerprints all over it and work out an extortionate bill. It could take days.'

"Why not take it somewhere else?"

"You kind of know where you stand with these guys. They're hoopy."

"But they'll rip you off!"

"Not this time. I pulled a couple of wires. If they miss them, it's curtains. I told them who I am and what would happen if they didn't do a proper job."

"Blackmail?"

"It's called good business. If they do a good job, they'll come out of it alright."

A small monitor flew from the house and hovered in front of Zaphod. He squinted and shaded his eyes.

"Hey, we've got visitors," beamed Zaphod. "Ford and the monkey man are here with some chicks. Freeooww!"

"You mean Arthur," said Trillian firmly. She waited. "Aren't you going to let them in?"

"Not yet, I want to see them ogle a little while longer," chuckled Zaphod. "I can almost hear them saying this can't be my place."

"This can't be Zaphod's place!" Arthur said, disgusted by the fact that he knew it was.

"He must have done pretty well for himself since the Krikkit business," said Ford.

"What was...."

"Don't ask, Fenchurch," snapped Arthur. "It's not something I want to be reminded of."

The door swung silently open. No 'happy service' or ' glad to be of service'. Zaphod had made it big. He stood in the doorway, arms open.

"Hi hi hi guys, good to see me, isn't it. No seriously, hi Ford, Arthur. Who are the chicks?"

"These ladies are Fenchurch and Bolo," said Arthur.

"Hi Bolo, nice to see you again."

"You, you've met?" Spluttered Ford.

"Yes, Zaphod's the guy with the grey limo from Han Dold City," explained Bolo.

"But don't mention it, the soon to be wife's inside," whispered Zaphod. "Come through to the patio."

Trillian got off the sun bed to greet them. After the formal introductions of Fenchurch and Bolo, she put her arms around Ford and Arthur.

"It's great to see you guys again, it's been too long," she said. She had been explained to Fenchurch and Bolo to avoid any embarrassment a gesture like this would have caused.