What to do when faced with seventy armed Hollixes?

Zaphod Beeblebrox had always known something was wrong with his head. Like it had been cut open and then sewn together again, but not very efficiently. The threads used were perhaps what poor Scottish weavers in the 18th century used for patching up kilts. No wonder Zaphod often had the feeling that a bagpipe was playing somewhere around him.

Sometimes though, Zaphod wondered if he could legitimately say something was wrong with his head, if he had always known (as he liked to claim to his own self) that something was wrong with his head. Because isn't the age-old test to find out if something is wrong with your head is, asking the question, if something is wrong with your head, and if you come up with the answer, no, nothing is wrong with my head, then indeed something is wrong with your head. Since Zaphod's answer to this question was quite the contrary, he, like many other creatures in the universe was  frequently left dazed and confused in an endless maze of probabilities. And this predicament usually brought him back to the same question. Was something wrong with his head?

Now as he stood unarmed and with his two heads intact, in front of seventy Hollixes armed to the teeth, but each of whom had only one head, the question came back to him again, albeit in a different form. Did Hollixes also think that something was wrong with their head? Hmm, quite possible. But wouldn't such thinking of Hollixes part be just plain stupid, because by virtue of having only one head (and if that head goes wrong...KA-POOT!) if something was really wrong with their head, they would all be drooling all the time, instead of pointing their Zap-o-Rama's at him for stealing...umm...frisking away the Heart of Gold.

It had been probably twelve diggahours (equivalent to two earth minutes) since the Hollixes had drawn out their Zap-o-Rama's and begun pointing it at Zaphod. And they'd done just that, poised themselves with their guns pointing at Zaphod's heads and stayed very still. All Hollixes do have an eye from drama, Zaphod reflected. But Zaphod was bored. So he decided to walk away. The seventy Hollixes just stared at him walk away. As part of the Elite Force of Universal Police, they hadn't been trained what to do in case someone starts walking away from the point of seventy Zap-o-Ramas.

The Creature Rights lobby worked in subtle, but effective ways at the Ministry of Protection, which issued training guidelines for the Elite Force of Universal Police.