Part 27 (1/2)

'Why not?' a pootle-tink bird called from the fence. 'I thought you were immortal.'

This got a big laugh so Wowbagger decided to nip it in the bud. When dealing with a heckler, go for the deeply personal When dealing with a heckler, go for the deeply personal had always been his motto. had always been his motto.

'You have some stains on your tail feathers there, birdie. You a bed wetter?'

The other birds laughed hard enough to bring on a bout of spontaneous egg laying and the target bird shot him such an evil look that Wowbagger was glad he would be dead in a few minutes.

Finally, Thor seemed to be finished with his ringside business and lifted himself from the head of Mjollnir, on which he had been perched.

Here we go. About time too.

The Thunder G.o.d was a huge specimen, at least four times Wowbagger's height, but not slow or ungainly. Thor moved as though he was being careful not to break stuff with every step.

I am probably the only person here not afraid of this guy, Wowbagger thought, but then amended that thought to: I am probably the only person here besides Beeblebrox who is not afraid of this guy. Beeblebrox probably thinks he could win this fight. I am probably the only person here besides Beeblebrox who is not afraid of this guy. Beeblebrox probably thinks he could win this fight.

Then a funny thing happened. With every step Thor took across the scorched earth, he seemed to grow smaller.

Heat haze, thought Wowbagger. It must be It must be.

It was not. Thor was actually shrinking and by the time he reached the X's intersection the Thunder G.o.d was too short to be allowed on most fairground rides.

'Hey,' he said. 'What's up?'

Wowbagger blinked. 'Me, I think. From your perspective.'

Thor patted his own tiny body. 'Sorry about that,' he said, embarra.s.sed. 'Zaphod's idea. If I just come out here and crush you, how's that going to make me look? Like a bully, that's how. This way, for any cameras pointed at us, I look like a giant-killer, which is a much better angle, according to Zaphod, and he knows media.' The G.o.d frowned. 'Though he does make the occasional mistake.'

Wowbagger felt a buzz of antic.i.p.ation behind his eyes. 'So, what happens? I kneel down, I suppose, and then you clobber me?'

Thor was almost affronted. 'What? No, no. That wouldn't work. That's an execution. We have to give these people a show. And not just these people. Eventually this is going to filter through to the entire Sub-Etha.'

'The Sub-Etha. I never watch it.'

'Never?'

'No. It's all junk. Give me a cla.s.sic movie any day.'

'I wish everyone was like you, but they're not. These days, in this Universe, careers are made and broken on the Sub-Etha.'

'But you're a G.o.d, what do you need with a career?'

Thor stroked his beard plait, which he probably was not aware had a few beads braided through it. 'That's a good question, but I know the answer because we did this in circle time, after my breakdown. G.o.ds have G.o.d-sized egos, so we need a lot of love to stay healthy. You see those G.o.ds going around blighting crops and drying up rivers? Those guys don't get loved. It's a cycle, you know. You have no idea how depressed G.o.ds can get. One minute we're adored, the next despised. I've been in the troughs, believe me.'

Guide Note: Loki the Trickster once used his hypnotic charm to convince the Aesir that he had decided to mend his ways and set up shop as a brainologist to the G.o.ds. His client list quickly grew as relieved divinities flooded to his door, eager to be regressed and find out why the h.e.l.l they were so attracted to unicorns and so forth. Thor himself was actually feeling much better and beginning to develop real affection for his brother when he discovered that Loki had done a deal with WooHoo WooHoo magazine and sessions were being serialized. To make matters worse, Loki had considered Thor's sessions a bit dull and so had added in a lot more weeping, incontinence pants and an Eccentrica Gallumbits fixation magazine and sessions were being serialized. To make matters worse, Loki had considered Thor's sessions a bit dull and so had added in a lot more weeping, incontinence pants and an Eccentrica Gallumbits fixation.

Wowbagger nodded thoughtfully to convey the impression that he was prepared to care, but really he was only prepared to nod.

'That's great. I understand the whole thing now. A cycle. Right. So, should we wrestle for a while?'

Thor glanced over his shoulders, worried that someone would tumble to the rigged nature of the showdown. 'A bit of chat first. You stole my s.h.i.+p, blah blah blah. Then you strike the first blow. I pretend to be injured, maybe limp a little. A little back and forth. Then BOOM BOOM on the temple and the fat lady has well and truly sung, my friend.' on the temple and the fat lady has well and truly sung, my friend.'

'Which fat lady?'

'Oh, nothing. It's a Valkyrie expression.'

Wowbagger glanced at the sidelines. There were tears on Trillian's face, but she was not taking one step to stop proceedings.

'Okay, little man. It was me. I stole your s.h.i.+p.'

Thor drew a sharp breath, puffing out his tiny chest, trying not to look mortified by the script he was supposed to stick to. 'You! My father gave me that interstellar longs.h.i.+p, which I named after my beloved goat.' (While broadcasting the thought: I hated that bucket of slime, which is why I sold it to a guy in a bar I hated that bucket of slime, which is why I sold it to a guy in a bar.) 'Yes, I did steal it and I'd do it again.'

'Oh, you would, would you? I may be a benevolent G.o.d, evil giant, but I can only forgive so much.'

Enough of this dire cabinotage, thought Wowbagger (cabinotage being a word he had picked up while preparing his global insult for the soap opera planet Sunny View, where the entire world was a television set with eighteen satellite suns for three-s.h.i.+ft daylight shooting). being a word he had picked up while preparing his global insult for the soap opera planet Sunny View, where the entire world was a television set with eighteen satellite suns for three-s.h.i.+ft daylight shooting). Let's speed things up a bit Let's speed things up a bit.

'Cut the buffa-biscuit, you preposterous little Viking. Your daddy hates you, and your mommy pretends you're someone else's son.'

Thor involuntarily shrank an inch. This wasn't in the script.

'What? What did you say?'

Wowbagger ploughed on. 'Everyone knows it. Thor the drunk, they call you. I think you should have stayed at the bar.'

A small thundercloud suddenly appeared overhead, spitting white lightning.

'You stole my longs.h.i.+p, evil giant,' spluttered Thor, thinking: I'm spluttering. G.o.ds shouldn't splutter. This is a disaster; they're going to hate me. I'm spluttering. G.o.ds shouldn't splutter. This is a disaster; they're going to hate me.

'Sure. Whatever you say. And another thing everyone knows: you detest mortals.'

'I do not... What? That was my father's s.h.i.+p. Remember the longs.h.i.+p?'

'You think mortals are second-cla.s.s individuals. You wouldn't wipe your boot with a mortal.'

Thor grew taller, much taller. 'Yes, I would.'

'You would would wipe your boot with a mortal?' wipe your boot with a mortal?'

There were a couple of boos from the audience, maybe a hiss.

'Yes. I mean no. I don't know, maybe if my boot was dirty.'

Wowbagger tapped his chin. 'And did I hear something about a video...'

That was as far as he got, because suddenly Thor was looming over him with Mjollnir raised to strike.

What happened to back and forth? wondered Wowbagger, then the hammer came down so fast it blurred, cras.h.i.+ng into his head with a noise like a meteor impacting on a field of ice. wondered Wowbagger, then the hammer came down so fast it blurred, cras.h.i.+ng into his head with a noise like a meteor impacting on a field of ice.

Goodbye, Trillian, thought Wowbagger, then he was driven bodily fifty feet straight down into his grave.