4. The pursuees must not turn any corner until they have been shot at, or at least indicated their direction.

5. The corridors must be endless, generally formed in a loop to save on budget.

6. One member of the pursuees must suggest splitting up.

"I suggest we split up," yelled Trillian.

"If I get hit I will split up!" Yelled Zaphod.

"This way," yelled Arthur to Fenchurch, grabbing her hand and pulling her through a doorway.

"Split up.... NOW!" Yelled Ford. Trillian and Bolo dashed one way and Ford and Zaphod charged the other way, all of them yelling.

Another rule is that all participants must yell.

Fenchurch pulled Arthur through a doorway, almost breaking his arm as he intended going the other way.

"Shhh," she whispered. Three jovial robots trundled by.

"We should be safe here for a while," she eventually said, hoping the robots didn't have super hearing.

"I don't want to be safe for a while," said Arthur. "I want to be safe for good."

"Aren't you enjoying it?" Asked Fenchurch.

"My idea of enjoyment does not include being shot at by an jolly and helpful android."

"I know what your idea of enjoyment is. I find all this very exciting. Doesn't it turn you on?" She slipped her arms around his waist.

"Er, not really." He could hear the distant sounds of laser fire and apologies. "It's all a bit distracting."

Fenchurch did something wonderful to his ear. Arthur succumbed to the notion that if he was going to go, this was the way to do it and Fenchurch really knew how to do it. What they didn't realise was that they were saving their lives as the robots had privacy circuits fitted which sensed arousal and caused the robots to seek another function far away.

Zaphod and Ford weren't in any position to initiate any privacy circuits. They were desperately dodging laser fire. Zaphod was throwing himself into somersaults, crashing into walls and various other unnecessary actions that were good for effect. He rounded a corner and saw a sight to warm his heart, mouth and throat. A neon sign saying 'BAR'.

"Hey! Was my navigation good or what?" He said as one of his heads almost got a parting from a laser he wouldn't be able to blow dry out.

"Quick!" Said Ford, as if it was really necessary to instruct Zaphod on how to enter a bar. They crashed through the doors and into the bar. They landed in a heap on the floor.

"We usually end up like this when we leave a bar, not when we enter," said Ford. "This is just like the good old days."

"Yeah, adventure, excitement and really wild things."

"Yeah, being chased."

"Yeah."

"The danger."

"Yeah."

"Risking life and limb."

"Yeah.... Don't you kind of long for the good new days?"

"Yeah."

They got up and went to the bar.

"Listen, everyone," shouted Ford.

"Yeah, listen," reaffirmed Zaphod

"A couple of robots will be coming through that door in a minute."

"Yeah, two evil mothers." The crowd listened intently.

"Well, they're not really evil, they're quite nice about it all, they just want to kill us."

"And do you know who I am?" Demanded Zaphod.

"Not now, Zaph old buddy, I've almost got them on my side," whispered Ford. He raised his voice again for the crowd. "They want to kill us, and we don't want that."

"No way, said Zaphod. The gathering crowd seemed to agree.

"So if you can stop them...." Ford paused for effect. "My friend will buy you all a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster!"

"Yeah, the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster's are on... .What, Ford?"

The cheers from the crowd drowned Zaphod protest. The nice robots entered and were almost immediately destroyed by the thirsty drinkers. They were all back at the bar before the first wisps of smoke from the robots reached the low ceiling. Zaphod's back was slapped more times than an Arcturan mega donkey in the Betelgeuse Grand National.

"Put it on the slate," Zaphod said to the frantic barmen, making a mental note never to visit this bar again. This was something Zaphod had done all over the Universe, but not to the religious levels that Arthur hadn't.

Arthur and Fenchurch, having left the chase for a spot of uninhibited fun (or as uninhibited as Arthur could be knowing a team of robots were after his blood), were now back in the thick of it. A combination of luck, instinct and improbability guided them outside. They were just behind Ford and Zaphod, whose straight line capability had been seriously undermined by the victory celebration in the bar. Bolo, Trillian and Marvin were in the hatchway of the Heart of Gold.

"Come on!" Yelled Trillian, seeing the robots closing in.

Zaphod grabbed Ford's arm.

"Let's stand and fight these guys, impress the chicks," said Zaphod. "I feel like mashing some metal." Zaphod flexed his sinews.

Ford was so stunned he stopped running.

"What are they doing?" Asked Bolo.

"I wish I knew," said Trillian.

"I know," said Marvin. He looked at Bolo and Trillian then went back to looking at Ford and Zaphod.

"Well do you think you could tell us then," said Trillian, trying to remain patient.

"They are lifeforms."

Trillian waited.

"That isn't much help, Marvin," said Bolo.

"Look," said Marvin, summing up every monotony circuit to help convey his message. "Since 97.6667% of activities undertaken by lifeforms are stupid and or pointless, the law of averages says that whatever they are doing is probably stupid and or pointless."

"Thanks, Marvin."

Marvin was, of course, right. Not only were Ford and Zaphod unarmed, they were also well on their way to being legless.

"What the hell are you doing?" Asked Arthur as he approached the defiant duo.

"Standing our ground," said Ford.

"But that's insane," said Arthur, stopping. Fenchurch had no intention of stopping and every intention of breaking the 100 metres record.

"We can beat these metallic morons," said Zaphod.

"If you stay here they'll become metallic murderers," pleaded Arthur.

"Arthur, if you can't stand the heat, go and join the women," said Ford.

"If I had any sense I would," sighed Arthur and turned to face the oncoming robots.

This stunned the robots. It wasn't in the rules and as there was no umpire handy to consult, they were stumped. They muttered amongst themselves then one stepped forward.

"How do you do," he started, in a perfect English accent. "My name is Jeremy and my colleagues have very kindly voted me spokesman.

"Howdy, Germy, " said Zaphod.

"Er, howdy to you, too. Now, we are a bit perplexed to say the least by your actions. We have been programmed to kill you, not our choice you see, and we were having quite a jolly time chasing you and that."

"Spiffing fun, wasn't it old chap," chirped Ford.

"Yes, very exhilarating. But it would be very unsporting of us to kill you in cold blood."

"I'll say!" Shouted one robot from the back.

"Well they say the chase is better than the catch," said Arthur.

"You are so right," said Jeremy.

"Well guys," said Zaphod, holding his arms out. "You've been so nice about all this, we'll give you a break. We'll go to our ship, take off and then you can come and chase us. All this running is bad for the legs."

"Hear, hear!" Shouted the robots.

"Sounds like a grand idea to me," said Jeremy.

"Okay then, that's settled," said Ford. "Give us five minutes to get a head start then it's 'Tally-Ho' away you go!"

This started Jeremy off, leading the robots in 'three cheers for the lads' and Arthur thinking that they still hadn't quite got the programming right at the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation.

"Look at those schmucks," said Zaphod as they turned to the Heart of Gold. "We'll improb out of here and they won't know where to start looking."