The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Original Radio Scripts

by Douglas Adams

ZAPHOD: Look, I’m up to here with cool OK? I am so amazingly cool you could keep a side of meat in me for a month. I am so hip I have difficulty seeing over my pelvis. Now, will you move before I blow it?

  Well, if you’d let me explain sir, I’m afraid that isn’t possible right now as Mr Zarniwoop is on an intergalatic cruise.

  ZAPHOD: When’s he gonna be back?

  RECEPT: Back sir? He’s in his office.

  ZAPHOD: This cat’s on an intergalactic cruise in his office? Listen three eyes, don’t you try to outweird me, I get stranger things than you free with my breakfast cereal.

  RECEPT: Well, just who do you think you are honey, Zaphod Beeblebrox or something?

  ZAPHOD: Yeah, count the heads.

  RECEPT: Well, I’m sorry sir but . . . what did you say?

  ZAPHOD: Ah, photons (This is delivered as a swear word)

  RECEPT: You are Zaphod Beeblebrox?

  ZAPHOD: Yeah, but don’t shout or they’ll all want one.

  RECEPT: The Zaphod Beeblebrox?

  ZAPHOD: No, just a Zaphod Beeblebrox, didn’t you hear I come in six packs?

  RECEPT: But sir, it was on the sub-ether radio this morning, it said you were dead . . .

  ZAPHOD: Yeah, that’s right, I just haven’t stopped moving yet. Now, where do I find Zarniwoop?

  RECEPT: Well sir, his office is on the fifth floor, but . . .

  ZAPHOD: But he’s on an intergalactic cruise, yeah yeah, how do I get to him?

  RECEPT: The newly installed Sirius Cybernetics elevators are in the far corner sir.

  ZAPHOD: Sirius Cybernetics Corporation. Oh Zarquon, haven’t they collapsed yet?

  RECEPT: Sir, can I ask why you want to see Mr Zarniwoop?

  ZAPHOD: Yeah, I told myself I needed to.

  RECEPT: Come again sir?

  ZAPHOD: I came to myself in a dream and said ‘Go see Zarniwoop’. Never heard of the cat before, but I seemed very insistent.

  RECEPT: Mr Beeblebrox sir, you’re so weird you should be in pictures.

  ZAPHOD: Yeah, baby, and you should be in real life.

  GRAMS: NARRATOR BACKGROUND

  NARRATOR: It will take Zaphod Beeblebrox at least thirty seconds to cross the entrance lobby of the Hitch-Hiker offices, and at least another three minutes will then elapse before the offices are finally bombed to bits. It would therefore seem an appropriate moment to recount that Trillian also effected a fortuitous escape from the Haggunenons, only to be carried off and forcibly married to the President of the Algolian Chapter of the Galactic Rotary Club, whilst Marvin the Paranoid Android has survived a remarkable and unwieldy series of adventures which he has never been able satisfactorily to explain, and has now, by the most amazing coincidence, arrived exactly here.

  MARVIN: Excuse me.

  RECEPT: Yes, sir, can I help you?

  MARVIN: I doubt it.

  RECEPT: Well in that case, if you’ll just excuse me . . .

  MARVIN: No one can help me.

  RECEPT: Yes sir, well . . .

  MARVIN: Not that anyone’s ever tried of course.

  RECEPT: Is that so?

  MARVIN: Hardly worth anyone’s while really is it?

  RECEPT: I’m sorry sir, if . . .

  MARVIN: I mean where’s the percentage in being kind or helpful to a robot if it doesn’t have any gratitude circuits?

  RECEPT: And you don’t have any?

  MARVIN: I’ve never had occasion to find out.

  RECEPT: Listen you miserable heap of maladjusted metal . . .

  MARVIN: Aren’t you going to ask me what I want?

  RECEPT: Is it worth it?

  MARVIN: Is anything?

  RECEPT: What . . . do . . . you . . . want?

  MARVIN: I’m looking for someone.

  RECEPT: Who?

  MARVIN: Zaphod Beeblebrox. He’s just walking over there.

  RECEPT: Then why did you ask me?

  MARVIN: I just wanted someone to talk to.

  RECEPT: What???

  MARVIN: Pathetic isn’t it? Goodbye.

  RECEPT: Oh father of Zarquon . . .

  F/X: HE SLUMPS OVER HIS DESK

  ZAPHOD: (Fade him up. Is it good convention to do a quick cross fade here? Otherwise we have to just move Marvin across which will be boring) Hey . . . Marvin? Marvin! How did you get here?

  MARVIN: Don’t ask.

  ZAPHOD: But hey you crazy psychotic cybernaut, how are you kid?

  MARVIN: I’m all right if you happen to like that sort of thing which personally I don’t.

  ZAPHOD: Yeah, yeah.

  F/X: LIFT DESCENDS. DOOR OPENS

  MARVIN: Hello lift.

  LIFT: (Soft muzakky sort of voice) Hello. I am to be your elevator for this trip to the floor of your choice. I have been designed by the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation to take you, the visitor to The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, into these, their offices. If you enjoy your ride which will be swift and pleasurable then you may care to experience some of the other elevators which have recently been installed in the offices of the Galactic tax department, Boobiloo baby foods and the Sirian state mental hospital, where many ex-Sirius Cybernetics Corporation Executives will be delighted to welcome your visits, sympathy and happy tales of life out in the big wide world.

  ZAPHOD: Yeah? What else do you do besides talk?

  LIFT: I go up or down.

  ZAPHOD: Good. We’re going up.

  LIFT: Or down.

  ZAPHOD: Yeah, OK, up please.

  LIFT: Down’s very nice.

  ZAPHOD: Oh yeah?

  LIFT: Super.

  ZAPHOD: Good. Now will you take us up?

  LIFT: May I ask you if you’ve considered all the possibilities that down might offer you?

  ZAPHOD: Like what?

  LIFT: Well, er there’s the basement, the microfiles, the heating system . . . um. Nothing particularly exciting I’ll admit, but they are alternative possibilities.

  ZAPHOD: Ah, Zarquon’s knees, did I ask for an existential elevator? What’s the matter with the thing?

  MARVIN: It doesn’t want to go up. I think it’s afraid.

  ZAPHOD: Of what? Heights? An elevator that’s afraid of heights?

  LIFT: (Miserably) Of the future.

  ZAPHOD: The future? What does it want, a pension scheme?

  F/X:

  BEHIND THE LAST FEW LINES WE HAVE HEARD THE SOUNDS OF MANY LIFTS DESCENDING

  LIFT: All Sirius Cybernetics Elevators can see into the future. It’s part of our programming. (Going down)

  ZAPHOD: Marvin – just get this elevator to go up will you? We’ve to got to get to Zarniwoop.

  MARVIN: Why?

  ZAPHOD: I don’t know, but when I find him he’d better have one hell of a good reason for me wanting to see him.

  GRAMS:

  NARRATOR BACKGROUND

  NARRATOR: narrator It should be explained at this point that modern elevators are strange and complex entities. The ancient electric winch and maximum capacity eight persons jobs bear as much relation to a Sirius Cybernetics Corporation Happy Vertical People Transporter as a packet of peanuts does to the entire West Wing of the Sirian State Mental Hospital. This is because they operate on the unlikely principle of defocused temporal perception, a curious system which enables the elevator to be on the right floor to pick you up even before you knew you wanted it, thus eliminating all the tedious chatting, relaxing, and making friends that people were previously forced to do whilst waiting for elevators.

  Not unnaturally, many lifts imbued with intelligence and precognition became terribly frustrated with the mindless busines of going up or down, experimented briefly with the notion of going sideways as a sort of existential protest, demanded participation in the decision making process, and finally took to sulking in basements.

  At this point a man called Gogrilla Mincefriend rediscovered and patented a device he had seen in a history book called a staircase. It has been calculated that his most recent tax bill paid for the social security of 5,0
00 redundant Sirius Cybernetics workers, the hospitalization of a hundred Sirius Cybernetics executives and the psychiatric treatment of over seventeen and a half thousand neurotic lifts.

  F/X:

  DING OF LIFT ARRIVING AT DESTINATION

  C

  Fifth floor, and remember I’m only doing this because I like your robot.

  F/X:

  LIFT DOOR OPEN

  ZAPHOD: Thanks a bundle.

  F/X:

  LOW RUMBLING THUDS IN THE DISTANCE

  ZAPHOD: Hey, what’s that noise?

  LIFT: I expect it’s the future that I was so worried about, and it’s about to get worse, so if you don’t mind, I’m going straight back down. ’Bye now.

  F/X:

  LIFT DOOR CLOSES VERY QUICKLY, LIFT DROPS OUT OF EARSHOT

  ZAPHOD: Left in the lurch by a lift. Hey, you know something, Marvin?

  MARVIN: More than you can possibly imagine.

  ZAPHOD: I’m dead certain this building shouldn’t be shaking.

  F/X:

  MORE HEAVY THUDS

  ZAPHOD: Either they’ve got some vibro system for toning up your muscles while you work . . .

  MARVIN: Yes?

  ZAPHOD: . . . or the building’s being bombed. Who in the Galaxy would want to bomb a publishing company?

  MARVIN: Another publishing company?

  ROOSTA: (Approaching in a hurry) Beeblebrox! Over here!

  ZAPHOD: No, Beeblebrox over here. Who are you?

  ROOSTA: A friend.

  ZAPHOD: Oh yeah? Anyone’s friend in particular or just generally well disposed to people?

  F/X:

  MUCH LOUDER EXPLOSION

  ZAPHOD: (Shouting above increasing level of noise) Do you know your building’s being bombed?

  ROOSTA: What do you expect? Ever since you arrived on this planet last night you’ve been going round telling people that you’re Zaphod Beeblebrox, but that they’re not to tell anyone else.

  ZAPHOD: Well I’m very insecure.

  ROOSTA: Yeah, so’s this planet now.

  F/X:

  MORE EXPLOSIONS. A VERY LOUD HEAVY THROBBING HUM CROSSES THE SOUND PICTURE. THIS IS A VERY LARGE SPACESHIP PASSING BY OUTSIDE THE BUILDING

  ZAPHOD: What is that? A whole battle fleet out there?

  ROOSTA: It’s your government out to get you, Beeblebrox. They’ve sent a squadron of Frogstar fighters.

  ZAPHOD: Frogstar fighters? Zarquon!

  ROOSTA: You see the picture?

  ZAPHOD: What are Frogstar fighters?

  ROOSTA: Get down!

  F/X:

  A SEARING ZAP CROSSES THE SOUND PICTURE, IT TAKES ABOUT TWO SECONDS

  ZAPHOD: That was a Frogstar fighter?

  ROOSTA: No, that was a Frogstar scout robot out looking for you.

  ZAPHOD: Hey, yeah?

  F/X:

  ANOTHER DIFFERENT ZAP GOES ACROSS THE PICTURE

  ZAPHOD: Hey, what was that?

  ROOSTA: That was a Frogstar scout robot class B out looking for you . . .

  ZAPHOD: Yeah?

  F/X:

  ANOTHER DIFFERENT PLAYING ZAP

  ZAPHOD: And that?

  ROOSTA: A Frogstar robot scout class C out looking for you.

  ZAPHOD: (Pause) Pretty stupid robots, eh?

  ROOSTA: Yeah.

  F/X:

  HUGE GRINDING CRACK FROM OTHER END OF CORRIDOR ACCOMPANIED BY HEAVY DYNAMO HUM

  ZAPHOD: Holy photon, what’s that?

  ROOSTA: A frogstar robot class D. I should imagine it’s just picked up the reports from the first three and has come to get you.

  ZAPHOD: Wow, we’ve got to get out of here. Marvin!

  MARVIN: What do you want? (Emphasis on ‘you’)

  ZAPHOD: See that robot coming towards us?

  MARVIN: I suppose you want me to stop it.

  ZAPHOD: Yeah.

  MARVIN: Whilst you save your skins.

  ZAPHOD:

  Yeah.

  ROOSTA: Down this way. Zarniwoop’s office.

  ZAPHOD: Is this the time to keep an appointment?

  ROOSTA: It’s our only hope of escape. He’s got a whole different Universe in his office. Come on.

  ZAPHOD: Marvin, it’s all yours.

  MARVIN: Thanks a heap.

  F/X: THEY RUN OFF

  FROGSTAR: Out of my way, little robot.

  MARVIN: I’m afraid I’ve been left here to stop you.

  FROG R: You? Stop me? Go on.

  MARVIN: No, really I have.

  FROG R: What are you armed with?

  MARVIN: Guess.

  FROG R: Guess?

  MARVIN: Yes, go on, you’ll never guess.

  FROG R: Ermm . . . laser beam? No.

  MARVIN: No.

  FROG R: No, too obvious I suppose. Anti-matter ray?

  MARVIN: Far too obvious.

  FROG R: Yes . . . Er . . . how about an electron ram?

  MARVIN: What’s that?

  FROG R: One of these.

  F/X: DEVASTATING VOLLEY OF ELECTRONIC GUN, CRACKING WALLS, FALLING MASONRY

  (Pause)

  MARVIN: No, not one of those.

  FROG R: Good though, isn’t it?

  MARVIN: Very good.

  FROG R: I know, you must have one of those new Xanthic Re-Struction Destabilised Zenon Emitters.

  MARVIN: Nice, aren’t they?

  FROG R: That what you got?

  MARVIN: No.

  FROG R: Oh, then it must be one of those things with twirls . . . goes whoosh . . .

  MARVIN: You’re thinking along the wrong lines, you know. You’re failing to take into account something fairly basic in the relationship between men and robots.

  FROG R: Er, I know, . . . I’ve seen them . . . quite big . . . er . . .

  MARVIN: Just think. They left me, an ordinary menial robot, to stop you, a gigantic heavy duty battle machine, whilst they ran off to save themselves. What do you think they would leave me with?

  FROG R: Something pretty damn devastating I would expect.

  MARVIN: Expect, oh yes, expect. I’ll tell you what they gave me to protect myself with, shall I?

  FROG R: Yes, all right.

  MARVIN: Nothing.

  FROG R: What?

  MARVIN: Nothing at all. Not an electronic sausage.

  FROG R: Well, doesn’t that just take the biscuit. Nothing, eh? Just don’t think, do they?

  MARVIN: And me with this terrible pain in all the diodes down my left side.

  FROG R: Makes you spit, doesn’t it?

  MARVIN: Yes.

  FROG R: Hell, that makes me angry. Think I’ll smash that wall down.

  F/X: QUICK DEMOLITION RAY JOB

  MARVIN: How do you think I feel?

  FROG R: Just ran off and left you?

  MARVIN: Yes.

  FROG R: I think I’ll shoot down their bloody ceiling as well.

  F/X: MORE RAYS & CRASHES

  MARVIN: That’s very impressive.

  FROG R: You ain’t seen nothing yet. I can take this floor out too, no trouble.

  F/X: MORE DEMOLITION. THE FROGSTAR ROBOT FALLS THROUGH THE FLOOR WITH A DEAFENING CRY WHICH DIES AWAY AS IT FALLS THROUGH SEVERAL LOWER FLOORS AS WELL

  MARVIN: What a depressingly stupid machine.

  (Fade; fade up)

  F/X: FIRE. ALARMS ETC.

  ZAPHOD: The building’s on fire!

  ROOSTA: You certainly make an entrance, don’t you, Beeblebrox?

  ZAPHOD: Well, it’s a terrible building anyway.

  F/X: IN THE DIN ANOTHER SOOTHING ALARM SYSTEM STARTS UP. IT SIMPLY DRONES ‘DON’T PANIC, DON’T PANIC, DON’T PANIC’. ANOTHER DRONES ‘EVERYTHING’S GOING TO BE ALL RIGHT, EVERYTHING’S GOING TO BE ALL RIGHT’

  ZAPHOD: How do we get to this Universe then?

  ROOSTA: I’m afraid it looks like we don’t . . .

  ZAPHOD: Hey, what, the building’s cracking down the middle . . .

  ROOSTA: Yes, that’s not all . . . look down at the ground.

  Z
APHOD: Hey, the ground’s going away! Where are they taking it?

  ROOSTA: They’re not, they’re taking the building. We’re airborne.

  F/X: RUSHING WIND

  ZAPHOD: Look, what have I done to deserve this? I walk into a building, they take it away.

  ROOSTA: It’s not what you’ve done they’re worried about, its what you’re going to do.

  ZAPHOD: Don’t I get a say in it?

  ROOSTA: You did, years ago. You’d better hold on, we’re in for a long, long journey. Let me introduce myself. My name’s Roosta, and this is my towel.

  ZAPHOD: Hi Roosta, hello towel. Where are they taking us?

  ROOSTA: The Frogstar.

  GRAMS: JOURNEY OF THE SORCERER

  NARRATOR: Who is the mysterious Roosta?

  Who is the even more mysterious Zarniwoop and why hasn’t he even appeared yet?

  What will Zaphod’s bewildering mission turn out to be?

  Will it be something he finds stimulating and challenging or will it just be a monster wanting to take over the Universe for no very good reason?

  How long will Ford and Arthur have to stay on the wagon and when will they be re-united with everyone else in the story?

  Tune into the next exasperating series of The Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and find out.

  ANNOUNCER: The magazine Playbeing can be obtained over the counter from any moderately disreputable Galactic newsagent.

  FOOTNOTES

  This one-off show was recorded on 20 November 1978 and transmitted on 24 December the same year, although some poeple who missed it first time round thought it had been written after all the other programmes in order to bridge the gap between the two series.

  It was commissioned as a one-off because most radio comedy shows do Christmas specials. The original idea was to do a real Christmas special in which the star that the Wise Men follow turns out to be Marvin, whose appearance as a shooting star has been caused by his catching alight on entering earth’s atmosphere. His subsequent experiences after crashing into a stable in Bethlehem and encountering a baby and some shepherds would then cure him of his depression and he would leave the stable singing. This appealing idea was dropped because some people in the BBC thought that going out on Christmas Eve it could be considered ‘Well, how shall we put it? . . . In slightly poor taste’. Equally importantly it didn’t actually fit the plot so far (whatever that was). So it was designed to follow on from the first series and point the way forward to the second (or is that getting needlessly messianic?).

  Several people, dismayed that the sixth programme could have been the last ever wrote in suggesting ways in which Zaphod et al could be saved from their apparent fate in the stomach of the carbon copy of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal. These mostly involved the Haggunenon evolving into something really peculiar but Douglas’ solution was simply to have it evolving into an escape capsule, thus saving any more tedious mucking around in hyperspace before everyone was re-united. However, it may just have had time to evolve first into an Organ and Tissue Replacing Unit as one listener suggested, in order for Marvin to regain the arm that he lost while being consumed.