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“Ford?“
“What’s the problem now, Arthur?“
Ford kept walking.
“You said – and I’m pretty sure I remember that correctly – we were going to hide inside an intergalactic TV show so we’d be save from whoever it was who wanted us dead this time.”
“So?”
“What you failed to mention was that this isn’t an ordinary TV show. I thought, maybe it’d be a quiz or even some kind of cooking show – but no, you had to get us into some gladiator Fight-to-Death kind of show! How does that make us safe?”
“Um, Arthur?”
“Why, why would anyone even watch such a show? How do they get people to participate? Who pays all the money necessary for creating such a hostile environment?”
“I hate to interrupt your insights into intergalactic show biz, but would you mind turning your attention towards that rather deadly looking beast coming our way? Seems hungry and fast, too.”
Arthur turned slowly. This day wasn’t getting better. And if it hadn’t been for Ford, the day wouldn’t have had any chance to show Arthur that it could improve after all.
Fortunately Ford knew exactly how to deal with situations like these. He grabbed Arthur’s hand.
“Basically: Run!”