Volume 2 - The Restaurant At The End Of The Universe Read Online Free PDF Page B

evening. Not that day and evening mean much in this place.”
    Ursa Minor Beta, thought Zaphod. At least he knew where he was now.
    He assumed that this must be his great-grandfather’s doing, but why?
    Much to his annoyance, a thought popped into his mind. It was very clear and very distinct, and he had now come to recognize these thoughts for what they were. His instinct was to resist them. They were the preordained promptings from the dark and locked off parts of his mind.
    He sat still and ignored the thought furiously. It nagged at him. He ignored it. It nagged at him. He ignored it. It nagged at him. He gave in to it.
    What the hell, he thought, go with the flow. He was too tired, confused and hungry to resist. He didn’t even know what the thought meant.

6
    “Hello? Yes? Megadodo Publications, home of the
Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
, the most totally remarkable book in the whole of the known Universe, can I help you?” said the large pink-winged insect into one of the seventy phones lined up along the vast chrome expanse of the reception desk in the foyer of the
Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
offices. It fluttered its wings and rolled its eyes. It glared at all the grubby people cluttering up the foyer, soiling the carpets and leaving dirty handmarks on the upholstery. It adored working for the
Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
, it just wished there was some way of keeping all the hitchhikers away. Weren’t they meant to be hanging around dirty spaceports or something? It was certain that it had read something somewhere in the book about the importance of hanging around dirty spaceports. Unfortunately most of them seemed to come and hang around in this nice clean shiny foyer immediately after hanging around in extremely dirty spaceports. And all they ever did was complain. It shivered its wings.
    “What?” it said into the phone. “Yes, I passed on your message to Mr. Zarniwoop, but I’m afraid he’s too cool to see you right now. He’s on an intergalactic cruise.”
    It waved a petulant tentacle at one of the grubby people who was angrily trying to engage its attention. The petulant tentacle directed the angry person to look at the notice on the wall to its left and not to interrupt an important phone call.
    “Yes,” said the insect, “he is in his office, but he’s on an intergalactic cruise. Thank you so much for calling.” It slammed down the phone.
    “Read the notice,” it said to the angry man who was trying to complain about one of the more ludicrous and dangerous pieces of misinformation contained in the book.
    The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
is an indispensable companion to all those who are keen to make sense of life in an infinitely complex and confusing Universe, for though it cannot hope to be useful or informative on all matters, it does at least make the reassuring claim, that where it is inaccurate it is at least
definitively
inaccurate. In cases of major discrepancy it’s always reality that’s got it wrong.
    This was the gist of the notice. It said “The
Guide
is definitive. Reality is frequently inaccurate.”
    This has led to some interesting consequences. For instance, when the Editors of the
Guide
were sued by the families of those who had died as a result of taking the entry on the planet Traal literally (it said “Ravenous Bugblatter Beasts often make a very good meal for visiting tourists” instead of “Ravenous Bugblatter Beasts often make a very good meal
of
visiting tourists”), they claimed that the first version of the sentence was the more aesthetically pleasing, summoned a qualified poet to testify under oath that beauty was truth, truth beauty and hoped thereby to prove that the guilty party in this case was Life itself for failing to be either beautiful or true. The judges concurred, and in a moving speech held that Life itself was in contempt of court, and duly confiscated it from all those there present before going off to enjoy a