"We've caught up with you again," said Jeremy. "It wasn't even a good chase this time. You killed off our scouts, which was a bit unsporting and you waited here for us. I think you've lost interest, so if you can't be bothered, we'll just kill you. What is that robot doing with you?"

"I am not just 'that robot', thank you very much," snorted Marvin. "You obviously have no conception of who I am." He paused to beg the question, then started again so soon as Jeremy began to speak. "I am your prototype, Marvin."

The robots were stunned and amazed.

"We were told you had been kidnapped."

"What's the point of kidnapping me. Nobody wants me. I just ended up going along for the ride. Enough of that, why haven't you given me the android salute, I am your superior."

The robots looked at each other, confused.

"You stick you left arm in the right ear of the robot next to you. Didn't they programme you anything?"

The robots obliged, exploded and lit up the Stavromulan sky with a firework display to rival the space battle seen but an hour before.

"Almost as stupid as you lot," muttered Marvin.

The Stavromulans helped to repair the Heart of Gold and agreed to let Arthur go to Zaphod's wedding to give Trillian away on the provision that he didn't stay away as long as he did before. The emergency back up improbability drive generator was hooked up using the old atomic vector plotter held together with Arthur's dressing gown cord, even though he had offered to get them home by clicking his heals together twice.

Ford got on the Sub Etha radio and relayed the co-ordinates of the entry route to Sirius to Etats and Dilos on Eccentrica Gallumbits' planet. Even though they were legless, they still managed to relay the message Universe-wide. Within hours, Sirius was overrun by consumers. The Marketing Division were put up against a wall and shot, strategic planning experts were brought in and the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation became a co-operative of the people. The revolution had arrived, two weeks before a rival company put in a bid, making a fortune for the co-operative. Wealth in the Universe was great for merchandising, causing a slight delay in plans.

The scene was set for a perfect wedding.

Arthur charged around in a panic. Fenchurch charged after him in a beautiful dress. Her intention was to get him into morning dress. She had found a do-it-yourself mode on the Tailormatic and although the machine protested, she produced an acceptable morning suit. Arthur was worried about what he had to do to give Trillian away. Fenchurch was worried about Arthur going out without any clothes on.

"Where's Ford?" He cried. "He must know."

"Arthur, will you put your clothes on," ordered Fenchurch.

"What? Oh, alright, but I'm not going out unless I know what I've got to do," sulked Arthur.

"You'll really enjoy yourself," said Fenchurch, pulling his trousers up. "I'll be there to give you support." She didn't realise that Arthur would be wearing a support.

Trillian came in the room, looking incredible. If Arthur wasn't so in love with Fenchurch, he would have asked Trillian to give up Zaphod and run away with him.

"You look lovely, Trillian," he said instead.

"What a beautiful dress," said Fenchurch.

It was indeed, beautiful. Every cut, stitch and hem was beautiful. The whole dress radiated beauty and tanned Arthur.

"The Tailormatic ran it up," said Trillian. "It is rather nice."

"Trillian, what have I got to do?" Asked Arthur. "I'm worried stiff in case I mess up your big day."

"Don't worry," said Trillian. "Just wear this."

She held out a grey cummerbund. Arthur took it and put it on.

"That doesn't really put my mind at rest," said Arthur.

"It's a gravity support harness," explained Trillian. "All you have to do is take your place next to Fenchurch after you land."

"Land?" Said Fenchurch.

"We fly down to the altar," said Trillian.

"I didn't know you could fly," said Arthur.

"I don't need to," said Trillian. "I've got a gravity support harness as well. A team of marriage technicians handles all the moves for us. All we've got to do is relax and enjoy it."

Arthur couldn't relax and was sure he wasn't going to enjoy himself. He was standing by the control room with Trillian. They technicians were sitting in front of an overwhelming bank of controls and monitor screens.

"Check on one, cue three for laser entry sequence."

"Magnetic field generator operational."

"All vocal Octogrids locked into octophonic harmonic positions."

"Audience cameras homed in and ready to roll."

"Red leader to base, I've been hit."

"Bride and monkey in position."

Arthur came away.

"Are you ready?" Asked Trillian, holding Arthur's hand.

"Ready for what?" Said Arthur. "I can't tell whether they're planning a wedding or a rock concert."

"I think it's a bit of both," grinned Trillian. "You know Zaphod. He's hired in a team of crying groupies to make me feel lucky."

"He doesn't deserve you," said Arthur.

"Tell him that," said Trillian. "He's giving me an entry in the Guide as the luckiest woman in the Universe."

A large, ugly creature beckoned them towards him. His hat declared he was a veteran of a Disaster Area tour.

"The eyes of the Universe are now watching," he said with a far away look in his eye. The other eye was watching for the cue. He stood holding a curtain closed. A magnificent noise came from the other side. A green light flashed above the curtain.

"You're on!" He opened the curtain and pushed them out.

They floated in a massive, black arena. They were high in the air and in the distance could make out a platform supporting the specially invited guests. Spotlights picked out Arthur and Trillian as a 640 strong vocal choir burst into glorious song. Arthur looked around for the choir but couldn't see them. The Octogrid Vocal Choir was there in voice if not in body.

The Octogrid Vocal Choir was the most successful choir in the Universe. They contained the best voices ever heard. That was because some bright spark, called Ip, thought what a waste it was when singers died and so indulged in some grave digging. He rescued the vocal chords of some great singers and stretched them across an octagonal shaped grid. He used a computer to stretch and contract the grid and spun the grid on its axis so air passed through the vocal chords to create sound. Ip built up his collection until he had enough to create eight grids of eighty voices and created an octophonic choir. This was fine until it was found that one singer had copyrighted his voice, which prevented it's use after the owner's death. A long, arduous and extremely profitable (for the lawyers) court case followed which eventually ended up being settled out of court by murdering the lawyers. The copyright firm signed up the choir, giving Ip a massive settlement, which he used to put himself through Law School and later successfully sued the School for malpractice.

The Octogrids had been bordered by reflective strips, which caught the spotlights and scattered them all over. Suddenly, Arthur and Trillian took flight and flew around the arena at a frightening speed. Lighting gantries exploded into light and the choir spun themselves into a frenzy. Arthur and Trillian dive bombed the platform and landed with great delicacy besides Zaphod.

"Nice entrance," he whispered. "You should have been here for mine."

The lights dimmed and the choir settled down a bit. From above a shower of diamond shaped metal plates came down, the spotlights dancing through them. The plates stopped above the platform, held there by a magnetic field. The technicians tweeked the field generator and the plates revolved. Lasers burst out from nowhere into the magnetic field, deflecting everywhere. It put even the largest glitterball to shame. The choir whipped themselves up again as a priest floated down in front of the altar. They reached an orgasm of sound (you had to be there) and fell silent.