"Really, Mr. Beeblebrox, there's absolutely nothing to it! Order your lifetime supply of Slepzzzinian Rot Treatment today!" The nauseatingly cheery advertisement which had just appeared on the computer screen vanished.
"Damned computer." Zaphod cursed himself for not buying one with ad protection and told himself next time an ad came up, he'd put one of his two heads through the screen. He took another sip of Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster. Zaphod smiled to himself and passed out.
He was awakened by a very cold hand tapping his shoulder.
"By the mother of the Great Golgafrinchian Enterprises!" he muttered groggily. He opened one eye. "Ah, Slabartifast. Nice to see you. Look, I'm rather sloshed at the moment. I'll help you saave tthhe uunniverssse nnnnexxtttt wwweeeeeeeek." His words slurred as he dropped back on to the keypad of the computer.
"Nice work, Slabartifast. The most I have been able to get out of him has been 'By the mother' and 'Hit me again!' before he's dropped back out," said Ford.
"Kind of sad, really," Trillian mused, "a mind going to waste like that."
"Save your pity for someone who deserves it. There's not a whole lot to be wasted. Anyhow, Slabartifast, what was it you wanted?"
"Nothing really, just dropping in to see if Arthur had managed to make any tea. Apparently, he hasn't." Slabartifast glanced worriedly at Arthur who was curled up in a fetal position in the corner, staring shiftily at a couch next to him. His eyes had a dull, unfocused look and he was muttering, "With cream and sugar" over and over to himself. Arthur caught sight of Slabartifast and went running down the hallway and out of the hatch into deep space. Trillian and Ford raised their eyebrows synonymously. "My work here is done," Slabartifast said, and evaporated.
"Hey, wasn't that from..." began Ford.
"No."
"Damned computer." Zaphod cursed himself for not buying one with ad protection and told himself next time an ad came up, he'd put one of his two heads through the screen. He took another sip of Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster. Zaphod smiled to himself and passed out.
He was awakened by a very cold hand tapping his shoulder.
"By the mother of the Great Golgafrinchian Enterprises!" he muttered groggily. He opened one eye. "Ah, Slabartifast. Nice to see you. Look, I'm rather sloshed at the moment. I'll help you saave tthhe uunniverssse nnnnexxtttt wwweeeeeeeek." His words slurred as he dropped back on to the keypad of the computer.
"Nice work, Slabartifast. The most I have been able to get out of him has been 'By the mother' and 'Hit me again!' before he's dropped back out," said Ford.
"Kind of sad, really," Trillian mused, "a mind going to waste like that."
"Save your pity for someone who deserves it. There's not a whole lot to be wasted. Anyhow, Slabartifast, what was it you wanted?"
"Nothing really, just dropping in to see if Arthur had managed to make any tea. Apparently, he hasn't." Slabartifast glanced worriedly at Arthur who was curled up in a fetal position in the corner, staring shiftily at a couch next to him. His eyes had a dull, unfocused look and he was muttering, "With cream and sugar" over and over to himself. Arthur caught sight of Slabartifast and went running down the hallway and out of the hatch into deep space. Trillian and Ford raised their eyebrows synonymously. "My work here is done," Slabartifast said, and evaporated.
"Hey, wasn't that from..." began Ford.
"No."