“I’m looking for Thor.” Eric tutted. “No problem finding him. Well of Urd. Go straight down to Yggdrasil, the giant ash tree, then left, and don’t give any money to the unicorns, it just encourages them. And if you see a guy with like a hook nose, answers to the name Leif, tell him that I think we got our eyeballs mixed up.” Even Zaphod had no trouble finding the golden tree, though he was distracted by hordes of zombie-like reanimated Vikings shuffling along the cobbled streets, clutching dry cleaning in their bony hands, or trailing listlessly after tiny dogs.
