The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Page #8

JELTZ:

So, Earthlings, I present you with a

simple choice. Either die in the vacuum

of space, or -- tell what you thought of

my poem.

Ford is spent, can't say a word. Arthur looks up.

ARTHUR:

Actually...I rather liked it.

Jeltz looks surprised. Ford notices, whispers to Arthur.

FORD:

Good tact. Run with it.

ARTHUR:

Um...some of the words I didn't understand,

but I found the imagery quite effective.

JELTZ:

Continue. . .

(CONTINUED)

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ARTHUR:

And, um, interesting rhythmic devices which

seemed to counterpoint the surrealism of

the underlying metaphor of the humanity...

FORD:

Vogonity!

ARTHUR:

... Vogonity, sorry. Vogonity of the poet's

soul, which contrives through the medium

of the verse structure to sublimate, er...

FORD:

... whatever it was ...

ARTHUR:

... the poem was about.

Jeltz rubs one of his chins, then smiles and claps slowly.

FORD:

Damn.

ARTHUR:

What?

FORD:

I think you just saved my life again.

JELTZ:

An astute analysis. Very impressive.

(turning to the Guard)

Throw them off the ship.

The guard grabs them, drags them out of the bridge.

VOGON GUARD:

Resistance is useless!

JELTZ:

Hmph. "Counterpoint the surrealism of the

underlying metaphor..." Death's too good

for them.

Jeltz picks up his fishing rod, goes for another crab.

28 INT. VOGON SHIP CORRIDOR -- MOMENTS LATER 28

The Guard shoves them into the airlock.

29 INT. AIRLOCK -- CONTINUING 29

They sit, panting. Arthur stares forward.

ARTHUR:

So this is it? We're going to die?

(CONTINUED)

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FORD:

Yes. No, wait! What's this switch?

(reaching for it)

No, it's nothing. We are going to die.

Arthur sits for a moment, then oddly chuckles to himself.

ARTHUR:

You know, it's at times like this, when

I'm trapped in a Vogon airlock with a man

from Betelgeuse and about to die of

asphyxiation in deep space that I really

wish I'd listened to what my mother told

me when I was young.

FORD:

Why? What did you she tell you?

ARTHUR:

I don't know. I didn't listen.

Ford folds his towel into a tiny square, holds it up

toward Arthur. He raises an eyebrow. Will this help?

FORD:

You're sweating.

Ford dabs Arthur's brow. They stare forward at the

airlock door. Long pause. Nothing happens. They look

to each other. Shrug. They might be okay. Then --

PSSH. The bottom drops out. They're sucked down and out.

30 EXT. DEEP SPACE -- CONTINUOUS 30

Ford and Arthur spin away from the ship, holding their

breath. The guide slips out of Arthur's pocket.

GUIDE VOICE:

"Space..." says the introduction to the

Hitchhikers Guide, "...is big. Really big.

You just won't believe how vastly, hugely

mind-bogglingly big it is. I mean, you

may think it's a long way down the road to

the market, but that's just peanuts

compared to space..." and so on.

The weightless guide twirls away. Arthur reaches for it.

The words "DON'T PANIC" alight.

GUIDE VOICE (CONT'D)

It also says that if you hold a lung full

of air you can survive in the total vacuum

of space for about thirty seconds -- but

with space being really big and all, the

chances of being picked up within that

time are 2 to the power of 2076775949 to 1

against...

(CONTINUED)

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Something else falls out of his pocket -- his digital

phone with the photo of he and Tricia at the fancy dress

party.

GUIDE VOICE (CONT'D)

...which, by a staggering coincidence, is

also the telephone number of the Islington

flat where Arthur once went to a fancy

dress party and met a very nice girl whom

he totally failed to connect with.

He reaches for the phone, it's just beyond his fingertips.

His eyes widen with fret as the phone tumbles away.

30a Then -- WOOMPH -- space seems to stretch and bend. A tiny 30a

hole appears, then opens wide. Paper hats and party

balloons fall out, then drift away. The hole flips inside

out. Arthur and Ford are enveloped, then replaced by a

stunning, sleek starship, the HEART OF GOLD.

FEMALE VOICE (TRILLIAN)

Two to the power of one hundred thousand

to one against and falling...

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