Oedipus walks in.
"Playing god are we, children?" he asks while pondering over the fact that trillions of fuzzes have some how been packed into the bar. He shrugs.
Due to the large amount of oxygen and methane in fuzzes fur, they tend to be extremely flammable. Knowing this, Oedipus pulls out a charge of dynamite with a one foot fuse, lights it, and sprints back to his ship, madly hits the controls, and jets off, away from the soon to be large explosion
------------------
what have I become, my sweetest friend. Everyone I know goes away, in the end
"And the door closed with a satisfied ssssssh-aaaaah"
may your stories live on, Douglas Adams, and may the mice find the true question of life, the universe, and everything