Vogon Poetry Mystery Cache
divrdon: This one has been fun. For those of you who haven't tried it, there is still Vogon Poetry II, GCZ3ZG. Watch for Vogon Poetry III, soon.
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DO NOT GO TO THE COORDINATES ABOVE! These coordinates were created using a random number generator. By a matter of sheer coincidence, they also happen to be the coordinates to the place where I purchased the FTF prize. In case you’re curious, the odds of that happening by coincidence are 10-to-the-power-of-3,605,551,212 to one against.
This cache is dedicated to one of my favorite books, by Douglas Adams. “The Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy” is a wholly remarkable book, and it sells rather better than the “Encyclopedia Galactica.”
By the way, your planet is slated for demolition in order to make way for a hyperspatial express route through your star system. Of course, you are welcome to express your opinion on the matter by registering your comments with the local Hyperspatial Planning Council. For those of you unfamiliar with the Hyperspatial Planning Council, you should take more interest in local affairs! You've never even tried to call! While you await the end of your short life, perhaps I can keep you entertained with a little Vogon poetry.
(Before reading the poem, it is recommended that you drink 4 or 5 Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters. The effect of drinking these will be similar to having your brains bashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick. This is unilaterally preferred throughout the universe over enduring a complete 4-stanza Vogon poem. Vogon poetry is widely regarded as the second worst in the universe. Here is the recipe:
Take the juice of 1 bottle of Ol’ Janx Spirit, pour into it 1 measure of water from the seas of Santraginus 5. (Oh that Santraginean sea water! Oh those Santraginean fish!) Allow 3 cubes of Arcturan Mega-gin to melt into the mixture. (It must be properly iced for at least 12 minutes or the Benzine is lost!) Allow 24 liters of Fallian marsh gas to bubble through it in memory of all those happy hikers who have died of pleasure in the Marshes of Fallia. Over the back of a silver spoon, float 3 measures of Qualactin Hypermint extract, redolent of all the heady odors of the dark Qualactin Zones, subtle, sweet and mystic. Drop in 1 tooth of an Algolian Suntiger. Watch it dissolve, spreading the fires of the Algolian Suns deep into the heart of the drink. Sprinkle Zamphuor, add an olive and drink very, very carefully!
If you are lacking these ingredients, substitute 2 pints of Absolut Vodka, and 7 cups of diet Squirt. From experience, I know this will give you relatively the same effect. Careful – Here comes the poem!)
Ode to a Flesh-Eating Virus
by Prostetnic Vogon Divrdon
oh grittled fudfuggly, thy grafted hilts cazzew.
thy hintiggly grots shall hicca zots all but yon GLI-one.
in a helgum flatulence my terse grunts decree pew,
sculpins paired with futtig soss, misdeem my one-TY ton.
putty gleats and craggly peaks as gugular halts the rind,
oh how the flecks of groggly rex puttin one-CAFUD.
my how rinkly the futile smacks of zero-G
in a singly grafted hoftittly hew, see if i don’t!
The cache is in a park. The hours are 7 a.m. to dusk. Have fun! And, if you haven’t read the book, I highly recommend it. Don’t forget your towel! Let me know if you think I should raise or lower the difficulty of this cache. Thanks!
Additional Hints
(Decrypt)
QBA’G CNAVP! Lbh jvyy ABG (668) arrq n obng! Lbh ZNL (629) arrq gb pnyy fbzrbar sbe uryc.
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