Story Prompt: Page 123. This story is so cheesy!

This story is in response to @michelle.gent's prompt to write a story from a page number of choice from my favourite book. You can read about it here.

This is page 123 from 'The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy':

Trillian interrupted.
"Zaphod," she said, "any minute now we will be swinging round to the daylight side of this planet," adding, "whatever it turns out to be."
"Hey what do you mean by that? The planet's where I predicted it would be isn't it?"
"Yes, I know there's a planet there. I'm not arguing with anyone, it's just that I wouldn't know Magrathea from any other lump of cold rock. Dawn's coming if you want it."
"OK, OK," muttered Zaphod, "let's at least give our eyes a good time. Computer!"
"Hi there! What can I..."
"Just shut up and give us a view of the planet again."
A dark featureless mass once more filled the screens - the planet rolling away beneath them.
They watched for a moment in silence, but Zaphod was fidgety with excitement.
"We are now traversing the night side..." he said in a hushed voice. The planet rolled on.
"The surface of the planet is now three hundred miles beneath us..." he continued. He was trying to restore a sense of occasion to what he felt should have been a great moment. Magrathea! He was piqued by Ford's sceptical reaction. Magrathea!
"In a few seconds," he continued, "we should see... there!"

As the sun rose and the light shone on the planet, the three stood in awe as they saw the blood red lava filled surface, with yellow islands jutting out and a lone green tree which made up the vegetation.

Ford and Trillian watched with their mouths open wide with hunger.

But not Zaphod. "Computer!", he screamed.

"What have you gotten us into?"

"Hi there! As you commanded we travelled through a space-time vortex to land on the surface of a Margherita..."

Zaphod knew he had messed up. He shouldn't have updated the computer with the latest iOS voice recognition software.

Either this huge planet was flat like the earth dwellers believed or his ship had shrunk and landed on a PIZZA!

Source

How was he to ever run for President of the Galaxy, if he was incapable of finding a bloody planet! Mozzarella was the last thing he needed to get out of this sticky situation. If not ruling the galaxy, maybe he could go to the greatest country on earth. He had heard solid rumours that the Americans voted for presidents just like him. A role that involves no power whatsoever, and merely requires the incumbent to attract attention so no one wonders who's really in charge, a role for which Zaphod was perfectly suited.

Ford and Trillian, unaware of the Italian Botch Job, opened the hatch of the ship and were hit by a whiff of oregano. Ford missed Arthur. "The only earthman among us, should have been here at this moment", he said to Trillian with a touch of emotion.

"He is British, oregano would be too spicy for him!", Trillian replied with a smirk, as they both simultaneously heard a yelping sound from the bow of the ship.

They looked up and saw Arthur hanging by the belt of his dressing gown as it was entangled in the wing. His arms were flailing wildly as he was horrified at the sight of vile spicy Italian food. He just wanted a cup of tea and nothing else.

Ford pulled out a Spaghetti Pistol to shoot a rope towards Arthur, he looked admiringly at his shiny new equipment. This was the latest in the market, the Model-T, far better at shooting rope than the previous Model-AMG. His happiness was short lived, as Trillian shoved an elbow in his ribs to get him to concentrate on Arthur.

Trillion was tired of mothering these three blubbering idiots around. She rappelled up the rope, freed Arthur and brought him back into the ship. She hoped that the third idiot, Zaphod had managed to find a way out of their current predicament.

The three trudged inside, only to see Zaphod sitting on a beach chair, wearing Ray Ban's on one head and Oakley's on the other, casually sipping on a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster. Both his heads took turns at sipping the drink; it was a technique Zaphod had perfected to get twice as drunk with half as many drinks!

Arthur knew there was no escaping the Italians, and settled in to make tea and tuna sandwiches. Ford didn't care either way; he went about cursing his three mothers for giving birth to Zaphod.

Trillian needed to come up with a plan. And fast. The crust of the pizza was caving in and before they knew it, the ship would be submerged below the sauce.

The smell of Tuna made her fish out a memory from her third brain. She pinged the missing dolphins to do a FaceTime. She needed the help of these dolphins who had successfully escaped earth without a trace.

The image of a school of dolphins sitting around a round table flickered onto the computer screen, as Trillian waited with bated breath. Solemnly, the dolphins announced, "To escape earth, you need to do the impossible. Arthur must become the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and Zaphod the President of the United States." A young dolphin in the group sniggered; he knew it was impossible.

The screen went blank.

Trillian burst out laughing. The dolphins had left earth long before Facebook had been thought of. Getting Zaphod and Arthur elected to high office was far easier than what the dolphins could have ever imagined...