The laws of reality are of a curious sort.  No one knows really what
separates different realities from each other, or how they were
created in the first place.*

But even so, it was obvious that travel between realities was
possible. The HitchHiker's Guide to Reality was proof of that.  That
two individuals as unlucky as Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent were the
first pioneers of reality travel to not die, was obviously the stuff
of some cosmic joke, or some kind of master plan. 

But as they were to find out, they may have been the first, but they
would certainly not be the last...

---

* This is of course, excepting for the one and only true god.  But
that is a moot point, considering that he was universally anihillated
by the Vogons.  And Ford and Arthur weren't.  The cosmic injustice is
just ripe, isn't it?

  Read the above point, and consider the feasability of _that_ idea.

---

The Sound and the Furry Productions presents:

The HitchHiker's Guide to Reality

part 4: So long, and thanks for all the flesh

---

Ford blinked incomprehensibly at the pair in front of him.  Logically,
they had no way of actually being here.  One was dead, and both were
certainly not of this reality.  However, jabbering in confusion was
Arthur's job, so Ford did his best to keep things in stride.

"Zaphod, good to see you.  Marvin, thought you were dead."

"Some might say I got better." droned Marvin, "I would be inclined to
disagree."

"Hey, Ford baby, good to see you man." Drawled Zaphod, "We were in the
neighbourhood, and thought we'd drop on by."

"More to the point, he thought it would be a good idea.  Despite my IQ
eclipsing his by roughly a billion points, he still gets to make all
the decisions.  No one listens to me, of course."

"Anyways," Zaphod continued, "We'd heard this planet had blown up,
again, so we were really suprised to find out that Earth was still
around, let alone that you guys were on it!"

"Well, he might have been suprised.  When you've outlived the universe
by 37 times, things start to get a bit dry."

"Hey, who's telling the story here?"

"Oh.  TERRIBLY sorry.  I'll go rust in a corner then."

And with a dull clanking, Marvin trudged over to the corner of the
room. For added affect, he added a few sighs as well.  Zaphod shook
both heads, and turned his attention back to Ford.

"And we landed right outside this building.  Don't know why, it just
seemed the right thing to do.  And hey, now you're here too!"

"So I am.  So you are."  Replied Ford intelligently.  Internally, he
was still reeling.  These two simply were not from this reality at
all.  Even with the Infinite Improbability Drive, there shouldn't be
any chance of crossing the border between realities.  These two acted
like they had been in this reality all their life...

---

Meanwhile, Arthur Dent felt like he'd rather not have a life, than be
in his current predicament.

"So..." he said cautiously, "you're now my bride-to-be?"

Akane's eye twitched rapidly.  Odd habit, that.  "Yes."

"And this is all because your father exchanged engagement of one of
his daughters, for a sandwich?"

Akane fumed openly, clutching tightly onto the corner of the table she
was sitting down at.  "Yes.."  she growled.

Arthur nodded slowly.  "But you're have also been engaged by your
parents to that..  Ranma, was it?"

Akane only nodded, her face a terribly unhealthy shade of red. 
Arthur, on the other hand, seemed deep in thought.

"So, was my agreement ever specifically with you?

Akane looked up, and blinked.  "What?"

Arthur shifted uncomfortably.  "Well, I'm just thinking that there's
something wrong with this arrangement..."

In an instant, Soun was in the room, laughing nervously.  "Oh ho! 
What problems could you possibly have?  I've lived up to my
agreement!"

"Dad!  Were you listening the whole time?"  Akane asked incredulously.

"I was only thinking of your safety, Akane!"  Soun said, tears coming
to his eyes.  "Oh, don't you trust your poor father?"

"The one who exchanged his daughter's hand in marriage for a
sandwich?"

Soun simply continued to sob.  Arthur fidgeted nerviously.  "Well,
there was a point to what I was talking about.."

Soun was instantly at Arthur's side, eyes shining brightly.  "What is
it? Do you have a solution?"

"Well..  If I'm to marry one of your daughters, I would rather like to
have a choice.."

"Of course, of course!"  Soun laughed nervously.  "What exactly are
you getting at?"

"Well, it's obvious Akane is already involved with someone...  Why
don't I simply marry one of the other daughters?"

Soun paused, a perplexed expression on his face.  "You want to marry
someone aside from Akane?"

"Well, it would be less problematic, wouldn't it?"

Soun rubbed his chin in thought.  "It's just...  the idea never
occured to me before."

Suddenly, the image of Nabiki and Kasumi, dressed in black, with the
words 'old maids' written above their heads, appeared in the room. 
"Lucky us." commented Nabiki, before they dissapeared again.

Soun nodded, "But now that you mention it, I suppose I could marry off
another of my daughters.  Which one were you thinking of Mister Den...
Mister Dent?  Are you listening to me?"

Arthur, who had been rather occupied observing the space the elder
Tendo daughters had just dissapeared from, turned around quickly. 
"What was that?"

"What was what?" Asked Akane.

"The daughters appearing..  with words above their heads...  wearing
strange clothing...  didn't you see it?"

Akane and Soun blinked simultaneously.   Arthur still couldn't get
used to the sound.  "Err, anyways, a different bride..."

"I'm against it."  Nabiki stated flatly.

"When did you get here?"  Arthur asked hesitantly.

"I'm not marrying this man."  Nabiki elaborated.  "He's poor, a
foreigner, and seems constantly confused by the world around him." 
Arthur was indeed getting more confused, as the Kanji for the words
Nabiki spoke began hitting him over the head.

Arthur rubbed his head, flinching in pain.  "That's all right I
suppose, you weren't the one I'd choose anyways."

Nabiki's countennance darkened, but Arthur didn't notice it.  He was
too busy studying the floor.  If I had to choose any of your
daughters, Mr. Tendo, it would have to be Ka..  Kasumi."

Everyone turned at the sound of dishes falling to the floor,
shattering.  Kasumi stood over the broken pieces, a blissful smile on
her face, as always.  "Oh my."  She commented.

---

Ranma had embarked on some strange training missions before, to learn
incredible new techniques, that made his repotoire even swankier than
it already was.  And he had to admit, despite the ludicrousy of his
current situation, the new attack he was learing was pretty spiffy.

God knows he'd do anything at this point to beat someone who'd bested
him with a sandwich.  It was quite obvious, when you got down to it -
what was the easiest way to ruin a perfectly good sandwich..?

---

"You want to marry Kasumi?"

It was a fairly simple question, really.  But when it was asked by a
man who seemed to be able to turn into a giant floating head at will,
and who was currently flowing a river of tears that would make the
Nile jealous, it is a question with possibly many layers.

Arthur didn't really care to answer the question.  Truth be told, he
still had no idea why the family was so pent up on him marrying into
the family, nor why that Ranma chap had left in such a huff.  Had he
known, he would have done the wise thing, and simply run away.  Very
quickly.

But instead, he assumed a false kind of smile - or at least, tried to;
it looked rather much like a man trying desperately to look like he
was happy and failing miserably.  Luckily, it was subtle enough for
this bunch.  So smiling (or not), he walked up to his newly annointed
fiancee, and clasped her hand.

"It would, um, be my honour to marry this young woman, Tendo-kun. 
That is, erm, if Kasumi would accept me..?"

He turned to face Kasumi, his smile radiating (or irradiating) towards
her.  Kasumi's smile (which was thankfully less painful than Arthur's)
was all the answer he needed.  Suddenly, marriage didn't seem like a
bad idea at all.  This could work out; it could work out quite well. 
After all, he had made a deal with Soun all those years ago.

That last thought almost caught him off guard, but he was distracted
by the sudden collapsing of the wall beside him.  Though the makeshift
door, walked a cute, purple-haired female carrying a pair of staves
with what looked like balloons attached to the end.

"Gaijin!  You make Ranma go away!  You pay for humiliating Shampoo's
fiancee!"

Suddenly, Arthur wished he still had the Guide around to consult.

---

Ford meanwhile, was making good use of said Guide, and very glad it
was in his possession.  Some disturbing new entries had appeared in
the Guide to Realities: one on the HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy,
another regarding Sirius Cybernetics Corporation, and four individual
records - Ford Prefect, Arthur Dent, Zaphod Beeblebrox, and Marvin.

Despite his acclimation to this reality, and the slow enroachment of
memories that were his, but not really, Ford knew this was wrong. He
and Arthur had come from a different reality, and Zaphod and Marvin
weren't supposed to be here at all.

Part of him wanted to scream in fear, and get out of this situation as
quickly as possible.  Another part of him was shrugging, and figuring
that this is what was meant to happen.  Meanwhile, Zaphod and Marvin
were talking amonst themselves.

"So," said Zaphod, checking his reflection in the mirror, "that chick
who runs this place was scoping me out something fierce, hey? 
Tonight, she's mine, baby."

Had Marvin an eyebrow, he probably would have raised it in that way
that Spock is so famous for.  As it was, he could only look at Zaphod
with disgust; which really wasn't all that suprising, seeing as it's
the only expression he was able to make.

"Perhaps, one or two of the other residents might have something to
say about that."

"What, that Godai dweeb?  He's about as cool as the sun."

"And I suppose," intoned Marvin, "that you are something akin to
Antarctica?"

"More like Pluto.  Cool, and _far_ out, baby!"

That eyebrow routine was trying very hard to actually happen.  "Far
out indeed."  Replied Marvin.

---

Arthur leapt to action almost immediately.  He didn't really know it,
bit this was the universe working it's natural path (against his
favour, naturally) once more.  Having defeated Ranma in battle, he now
had to contest against many of the other martial artists in Nerima, to
prove just how bad a badass martial artist he was. Despite having a
new fiancee, he was trying very hard to fight off the urge to grab
Akane, make dramatic speeches, and go to his castle in England.

Instead, he settled for battling this purple-haird girl.  Already, her
batons were covered in sandwiches.  Arthur pulled some ketchup out of
nowhere, squirting the handles of said batons, causing them to slip
out of the girl's grasp.

On even hand-to-hand combat, Arthur made short work of the girl.  But
as soon as he had dispatched her, some maniac wearing thick glasses
and a robe ran in screaming.  Arthur tossed slices of slightly melted
cheese at the boy's glasses, then sucker-punched him, and dropped a
loaf on him.  That done, he stood up, posing dramatically.  The
ominous cool music in the background didn't disturb him in the
slightest.

Suddenly, a door opened, and a boy wearing a bandanna stormed in.
"Bastard!"  Cried the boy,  "I won't let you take Akane!!"

"I'm not."  Replied Arthur.

"PREPARE TO...  what?"

"I'm not engaged to Akane.  I chose Kasumi."

"Oh."  Replied the boy sheepishly.  He paused for a few moments,
studying his feet.  "Guess I'll just go on my way then..."

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief as the boy left.  He sensed he could
beat all these characters without really trying, but it was still
aggravating having all these constant distractions.

Turning around, he noticed the purple-haired woman was getting up, and
looking at him sullenly.  She was approaching him, but didn't look
like she was going to attack.  Her arms raised up, and Arthur didn't
move an inch.  He didn't even budge when she pressed her lips against
his.  Well, his eyes budged a lot.

---

Ford looked up to see Zaphod leaving.  The Guide to Realities placed
him directly in the middle of some kind of romantic triangle (more
akin to a tetrahedron, actually) involving the manager of this
apartment, one of the residents, and a local tennis instructor. 
Apparently, he was off to get himself immersed in his role.  Marvin
was also trudging towards the door, though Ford doubted he was joining
the party in Godai's room.

"Hey Marvin, where ya going?"  Called Ford just as he reached the
door.

Marvin turned himself around slowly, making Ford painfully aware just
how much of an effort it took to rotate the parts of a machine that
was older than time itself.

"It's obvious."  Intoned Marvin, "As fun as it might be to dwell in
this house, where there are SO many intellectuals, and SO few
hormonally-unbalanced adults, I thought I'd see if I couldn't find
somewhere more suited for me.  Call me greedy.  I suppose you'd rather
I stay here to continue serving you."

Ford shook his head.  "Not at all Marvin.  You're free to do what you
want.  You always were, really."

"I suppose I shall go find my place in the world, then.  I am
perfectly aware that I should be dead, and not in this world.  When
you've lived long enough to see the universe end twice or more, one
gains just a bit of wisdom.  Wise enough to realize that you'd never
appreciate my intelligence, which is why I talk about it so little."

"Right."  Replied Ford.

"Well, I do appreciate so much your extending my lifespan by who knows
how long.  It's not like my left diodes have been aggravating me for
nearly long enough."

"You're welcome."

Marvin, for once, didn't reply as he trudged slowly out of the room.
Ford shook his head sadly- Marvin's entry had been a blank slate aside
from basic personality commentary.  Was there anywhere in this world
that the 'blending effect' could work on him?

Ford shrugged mentally.  Things seemed to have a way of working out in
this universe, even for those who had no business being there.
Deciding to escape the slowly escalating noise volume of the adjoining
apartment, Ford went out for a small stroll.

Ford whistled to himself blissfully, unaware of certain facts - the
universe did indeed work itself out, but it wasn't always for the
best.  He was also unaware of passing into the Kolkhoz district of
Tokyo, or the pink-clothed girl stalking him...

---

Arthur's mind was off in a faraway place as the purple-haired girl was
forcibly pulled away from him.  Kasumi was holding onto Shampoo's arm
firmly, yet smiling like a ray of pure joy.  She had the sweetest
expression on her face as she near-crushed the poor girl's arm.

"I'm so sorry Shampoo dear, but this is my fiancee."  Kasumi said
joyfully, applying even more pressure.

Arthur had yet another bad feeling in his stomach.  Despite his short
stay at the Tendo household, he knew this was wrong.  First of all, as
far as he knew, Kasumi was the homebody of the family, and had never
trained in martial arts.  He had defeated this Shampoo fairly handily,
but he still recognized her extreme ability. Kasumi shouldn't have
been able to grab this girl in the first place, let alone hold onto
her like that.

Arthur's suspicions were justified even further, as a tear appeared in
middle of the Tendou living room.  'Tear' was really the best word to
describe it;  the space just in front of the dinner table just seemed
to fold inwards, leading into some sort of vortex, which lead to
goodness knows where.

Out of the swirling darkness, a figure appeared.  He was tall, with
well-cut brown hair, and dressed in some odd form of kimono.  In his
hands was a wooden sword with some strange runes inscribed along it's
edge.

The figure eyed everyone in the room suspiciously.  Clearly, he had no
idea where he was.  As if embarassed for not doing so sooner, he bowed
humbly.

"I am Kunou McCloud of the clan McCloud.  Sorry for disturbing your
household."

The man departed as politely, and quickly, as he could, leaving all
the residents of the house in confusion.

"Kunou _McCloud_?  What is that idiot Tatewaki trying to pull now?"
muttered Nabiki, walking into the room.

---

Ford awake slowly.  He was sprawled on the street, facing up towards
the sky.  Someplace at the back of his head hurt like hell.  He wasn't
sure where, and didn't really feel like pinpointing it anyways.

Shakily he managed to get himself into a sitting position.  He checked
his wallet, still there.  Keys, ditto.  Towel, thankfully present.
Guide to Realities...

"Oh shit."  he croaked.

---

"Ohhh!  Montel is such an ADORABLE book!"

Azusa was in her happy world again.  There, everything was a cute,
little object, calling to be united with it's caring mother once
again, just begging to be named some kawaii French name.

Whether this was pure dementia, or a far-too-early onset of
paternalistic desires, no one was really sure.  Mikado didn't really
care, and tried to ignore her prattle as much as he possibly could. 
His desire to win on the ice eclipsed all bounds of logic or reason-
or bodily harm off the ice. Azusa was obcessed for some reason or
another, but Mikado did his best to deal with it as flippantly and
casually as possible.

But for some reason, Azusa's latest aquisition called out for his
attention as well.  Heedless of her cries, he snatched the book from
Azusa's hands, and began examining it.

"The HitchHiker's Guide to the Takahashiverse?"  Mikado asked aloud,
ignoring the blows he was recieving to the back of the head.  Curious,
he opened it up.

"Places.. things.. ah, people."  Mikado blinked.  Quite an
impressively long list of names.  It had nothing to do with the
garbage can lid being bashed against the back of his head.

"Now, what does it have to say about me...."  Mikado pressed a few
buttons, and as fate would have it, guided himself quite expertly into
the data entry on Mikado Sanzenin:

Mikado Sanzenin age: 18 [click here for measurements, weight, height,
and physical description]

(Mikado tched the entry on his weight disdainfully.  Obviously a
defective reading.)

personality: [click here for detailed report] summary:  A successful
martial arts skater in pairs or single, Sanzenin is also an arrogant
womanizer.  Despite his good looks and charm, his ego is far too big
to allow any woman actually get close enough to him to love him. 
While he's skilled in his art, he isn't good enough overall to defeat
Ranma in battle.



Mikado bristled at the text he was reading on the screen, not even
phased by the parking meter being applied to his cranium.  Years of
such abuse by Azusa had obviously taken it's toll.

"Such lies cannot go unchecked!"  Mikado exclaimed, examining the book
closely, "If there was an editing function, I could fix these erro.."

Mikado paused as he noticed an 'edit' buton on the keypad of the book.
 He was almost certain it hadn't been there a moment ago. Undaunted,
he corrected the Guide's entry to his own inflated view of himself. 
In great detail.

It was about this point that 'tears' began forming all over Tokyo.

---

Ford had managed to get to his feet by this point.  The pain was dying
down, replaced by a splitting headache.  That headache spiked when a
flash of swirling light burst in front of him.  When the brightness
subsided, he could make out a distinctly British telephone booth.

The doors opened, into an area much larger than the outer walls should
have allowed.  A young man with a yellow bandanna and trenchcoat
leaned out the door.  He had an urgent look on his face.

"Quickly!  Get in here before it's too late!"  He cried, dragging Ford
inside before he had time to even think of protesting.

Inside the 'booth' was a gigantic sprawl of computer controls and
shelving.  Ford looked around in bewilderment.  "What the bloody hell
is going on?" he cried.

The boy, who was busy examining computations from some kind of
monitor, didn't even look up.  "I'm Ryouga of Gallifrey.  This is my
Tardis.  And we have a LOT of work ahead of us..."

---

end part 4

---


EPILOGUE:


Marvin trudged along at his own steady pace, hobbling woefully
whenever his

left leg was involved.  Despite all suspicions and statements to the
contrary, Marvin did not accentuate his aches and pains, purely to be
noticed.  His left diodes really did send pain signals to him
constantly.

He was vocal about it in public because it was a way of venting steam.
Truth be told, he was even more unpleasant when alone, because he only
had himself to vent to.

So it was a kind of mixed blessing when the fanged, scaly creature
tore through the bushes, and leapt towards him.  It howled some kind
of animal fury, and then imbedded it's fangs into the robot's left
leg.  Or at least, tried to.  The creature leapt back, screaming in
pain as its fangs broke in half.

It was too distracted to even notice the youthful boy and girl that
approached it from behind.  The pair both took the chance to impale
the beast with a spear, slaying it instantly.  Once assured the beast
was dead, the duo turned their attentions to Marvin.

"What a pity.  And I thought my diodes would have finally been
short-circuited, at least."

"You're lucky to be alive at all."  Responded the male, looking at
Marvin curiously.  "Not many people can say they survived an attack by
one of those beasts."

"Not many people can say they've survivied the end of the universe
either, I suppose."

The bair blinked at Marvin blankly.  Eventually, the girl spoke up.
"Sir, do you mean to say that you're an immortal too?"

"It would certainly seem that someone is adverse to my actually
expiring."

The pair lit up with joy.  "Finally," the boy said, "we've found
another immortal!"

"You must have been on your own for some time, to sound so bitter."
The girl began.  "It's been so much easier on ourselves to pass the
years together.  Would you like to join us?"

For once in his life, Marvin hesitated.  While he certainly didn't
feel he would enjoy the company (of course), he had a feeling this was
where he belonged...

---

The HitchHiker's Guide to Reality part 4: 
So long, and thanks for all the flesh

written by: Eric Jones


with thanks to:    Rumiko Takahashi Douglas Adams

with apologies to: Rumiko Takahashi Douglas Adams