Guest
Encouraged by the success of Ford Prefect paying off his gambling debts by raiding the Mines of Magrathea, Zaphod Beeblebrox wants a piece of the action. However, the Magratheans are now wise to the threat of wandering degenerates swiping their riches while they sleep, and have beefed up their defences to the point where landing on Magrathea is somewhere close to impossible, even for those equipped with an Infinite Improbability Drive to turn missiles into a strangely-sentient bowl of petunias and a sperm whale. Zaphod's attention turned to the desolate desert planet of Kakrafoon, which has yet to be accidentally terraformed by a well-timed Disaster Area gig. The telepathic Belcerebon people who live there, forced to constantly natter about anything and everything that crossed their minds lest they read their neighbours' less-than-complimentary thoughts about each other (they should have seen what the humans did with social media in the 2010s and 2020s...), have let it slip over the Sub-Etha Ne
