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The Restaurant At The End Of Universe - Part 2
by Almond Aire (in tribute to the late Douglas Adams)

This clever parody was contributed to the Fantasy Archers topic of The Archers message board.

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"How do we pay for this?" asked David suddenly, as he was still wearing his dungarees, and had brought no money with him.

"It's all in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," said Tom, "but basically, you invest a pound in a savings account in your own time, then compound interest pays for the meal. This works even with the awful interest rates we had back then. If you forget to do it, you can invest the money when you go back to your own time. Clever, eh?"

Kenton, who had arrived with a tray of drinks, and was looking at Tom in a bored way, raised two tall, brimming glasses, one to each mouth: "Kenton Beeblebrox, meet two large drinks! Hello. Hello."

The four of them sat at their table, and gazed around. Kenton pretended to be blasé, at least with one of his heads, but the second head and the other travellers stared with undisguised interest at the hundreds of other tables and their varied occupants. Some of them were from as far away as Birmingham! The companions nudged each other as they spotted an unusual couple at one table.

"Oh look," said David, "It's Lynda's llamas!" They all waved very conspicuously, and Wolfgang raised a hoof in reply. Constanza looked rather tired and emotional, and had a silly smile on her face.

"Who's that nice woman sitting with them? It doesn't look like Lynda," asked David.

"Oh, that's Deb - no, not you, Deb, another Deb - she's their publicist," said Tom, knowingly. "The llamas are famous these days, you know."

Kenton pointed at a very large table where there was a crowd of rather odd-looking people all wearing mustard flowers.

"Ooh look, my fan club is here!" he cried. Kenton swaggered over to the table, and his arrival caused a great cheer, especially from one woman who almost fainted in delight. However, some of the crowd didn't seem too impressed with Kenton, and were muttering amongst themselves. One man was even typing his caustic opinions into a laptop computer. Kenton, self-absorbed as always, didn't notice any negative reaction, and sauntered back to his own table, waving magnanimously at everyone he passed. He sat down again, saying, "Have to keep the punters happy, you know, Dave!"

Then Tom, blinking a little, as his eyesight was being badly affected by his third Pan Web Gargle Blaster, said, "Hey, Kenton! That's Hotwhite Ed!"

By now Kenton also had trouble focusing, but nodded unsteadily in agreement, his heads slightly out of step with each other: "Yeah, he made it biiig."

"Do you mean Hotwhite Ed from Dross?" asked Debbidge, whose eyes were crossing.

"Yeah, that's right," agreed Tom. "The loudest band in the history of the Universe." His voice faded away as he made his way through the crowd to say hello to Hotwhite.

"Hey, Hotwhite, how are you doing? You're looking great!" he said to a very still figure in a large chair.

Hotwhite had changed rather a lot over the years, and even more so since Tom had last seen him. He had gained his name because he looked hot in his once ubiquitous white T-shirts, but nowadays he had a much more solid presence, and was wearing a spangled white one-piece jumpsuit and dark glasses.

Tom sat down opposite him, and began a very one-sided conversation reminiscing about Dross's greatest and loudest achievements. Tom was far too drunk to notice that Hotwhite did not move a centimetre or say a thing. A large hand suddenly clapped itself onto Tom's shoulder.

"Shove off, pal," said a voice whose Scottish tones seemed familiar.

Tom turned to see the owner of the hand, and said in amazement, "Tartan Jazzer!"

Jazzer nodded. "Yes, it's me. Now shove off."

"I was just having a conversation with Hotwhite here."

"Oh, yeah? Interesting was it?" said Jazzer sarcastically.

"Well, we'd only just started."

"I think you'll find it wasn't ‘we’ at all," continued Jazzer, "Just you."

"Er, well, maybe..."

"Because Hotwhite Ed is spending a year dead for tax reasons, and also to avoid being implicated in supplying unwilling meat to the restaurant. Now, I'm his bodyguard, and while I'm here, nobody messes with this body, see. So shove off, Perfect!"

Tom returned to his table, with a thoughtful look on his face. As he sat down, a huge bovine animal with an extremely vague resemblance to a Hereford bull was approaching their table. It had large rounded haunches, and smiled in an eerie way.

"Good evening," said the beast, "I am the Dish of the Day. I am guaranteed high quality genetically modified tender beef - that's a little joke we Dishes like to crack, you know. Not only am I tender to eat, but I tender myself to the customers. You see, you get humour at no extra cost! Now, may I interest you in parts of me? For example, my rump is very good if you would like a steak."

David and Debbidge looked at the animal in horror. Tom raised an eyebrow. Kenton looked very hungry indeed.

The animal continued, "My shoulder would be delicious in a sauce."

"Is this animal asking us to eat it?" said Debbidge faintly.

"That's horrible!" said David, pulling a face.

"Better than eating an animal that doesn't want to be eaten, like the ones you used to breed?" said Kenton, prodding the animal's shoulder.

This reply seemed to silence David and Debbidge, who looked at each other guiltily.

"Aren't there any pigs on the menu this evening?" asked Tom.

"I'm sorry, Sir," replied the Dish of the Day. "Pork was the Dish of the Day yesterday, and it was very popular. I'm afraid the remainder has all been eaten by now. Some people arrived hours ago, you know."

"Four steaks then, please," said Kenton.

"Very wise choice," said the bovine. "I'll just go and shoot myself. I assure you it will be very humane."

The beast shambled off, with David and Debbidge staring after it in horrified fascination, at the same time as they both realised that they were very hungry indeed.

When the steaks arrived, Kenton and Tom ate theirs as if they had not had a meal for years (which if you think about it was actually the case). Debbidge hesitated a while, then began to tuck in too. David picked at his steak, but once he had tasted it, he could not persuade himself to stop eating.

"Look, Dave, if you feel guilty, you can always throw up afterwards," grinned Kenton.

As they ate, a figure appeared on the stage, and began to chat to the clientele, going through lists of groups who were visiting the Restaurant at the End of the Universe. The figure was wearing a hat with horns, and had a guitar. The companions looked at each other.

"Eddie!" said Tom in disbelief.

"How did he get here?" asked David, astonished. They sat and listened to his easy chat.

Eddie drew their attention to the enormous window, the curtains now having been drawn fully back. The sky was full of lowering clouds in sickly shades of yellow, and one by one the stars began to explode.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is ‘It’ - the end of everything. Now, let's say hello to everyone who has made this special journey to watch the Universe enter oblivion, and then afterwards, if you're all good customers, I'll sing you one of my very own compositions..."

Each time Eddie named a group, he was greeted by hysterical cheers from the appropriate table. In the middle of a particularly loud response from the mustard-flowered group, Nelson appeared at Kenton's elbow bearing a telephone.

"Kenton Beeblebrox, there's a phone call for you," he said unhurriedly.

Kenton looked worried, "Hey, what? Who knows where I am? Is it the Galactic Police after me for stealing the Heart of Mustard? Maybe Dave Barry wants to arrest me over the phone!" Only one of his heads was concerned, the other carried on eating. "So, who's on the phone?" he asked Nelson.

"I am not personally acquainted with the metal gentleman..."

"Metal?"

"Yes. He is both metallic and exceedingly enamoured of a metal and wood weapon that he carries all the time. If anyone suggests that he does not need it for his present job, they get a very aggressive response. Anyway, Kenton, he assures me that he has been waiting for you for a number of millennia. It seems you left here in rather a hurry."

"Left here? But we just arrived!" said Tom.

"Indeed, Tom. But before you arrived here it appears you left here."

Neither of Kenton's heads seemed to be able to cope with this statement, and both sets of eyes crossed.

Tom said, "But where exactly is here?"

"Precisely, Â鶹ԼÅÄ Farm, Ambridge Secundus, Europa."

"But we just left there! Clive blew up the barn while we were having a Barn Dance!"

"Yes, that's right," said Nelson wearily. "The Restaurant at the End of the Universe was constructed on the ruins of Â鶹ԼÅÄ Farm."

"Oh," said David brightly, "So we moved in time but not in space!"

"Dave, don't talk about things you don't understand!" said Kenton patronisingly.
"No, Kenton, your idiot relation has it right," said Nelson. David stuttered in fury.

"You moved forward 500 thousand million years while staying in the same place."

"Riiight," said Kenton. "Okay, but who's the guy on the phone?"

"Whatever happened to Greg?" asked Debbidge, who was not really paying attention, her eyes definitely crossed by now, as she lost count of the number of Pan Web Gargle Blasters she had consumed.

"Greg!" cried the three men in unison.

The rest of the series appears on the topic of The Archers message board.

Picture: Lynne Lancaster

More parodies - from Agatha Christie to Damon Runyon



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