Well, said Ford, the Thumbs an electronic sub-etha signalling device, the roundabouts at Barnards Star six light years away, but otherwise, thats more or less right.
And the bug-eyed monster?
Is green, yes.
Fine, said Arthur, when can I get home?
You cant, said Ford Prefect, and found the light switch.
Shade your eyes he said, and turned it on.
Even Ford was surprised.
Good grief, said Arthur, is this really the interior of a flying saucer?
Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz heaved his unpleasant green body round the control bridge. He always felt vaguely irritable after demolishing populated planets. He wished that someone would come and tell him that it was all wrong so that he could shout at them and feel better. He flopped as heavily as he could on to his control seat in the hope that it would break and give him something to be genuinely angry about, but it only gave a complaining sort of creak.
Go away! he shouted at a young Vogon guard who entered the bridge at that moment. The guard vanished immediately, feeling rather relieved. He was glad it wouldnt now be him who delivered the report theyd just received. The report was an official release which said that a wonderful new form of spaceship drive was at this moment being unveiled at a government research base on Damogran which would henceforth make all hyperspatial express routes unnecessary.
Another door slid open, but this time the Vogon captain didnt shout because it was the door from the galley quarters where the Dentrassis prepared his meals. A meal would be most welcome.
A huge furry creature bounded through the door with his lunch tray. It was grinning like a maniac.
Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz was delighted. He knew that when a Dentrassi looked that pleased with itself there was something going on somewhere on the ship that he could get very angry indeed about.
Ford and Arthur stared about them.
Well, what do you think? said Ford.
Its a bit squalid, isnt it?
Ford frowned at the grubby mattress, unwashed cups and unidentifiable bits of smelly alien underwear that lay around the cramped cabin.
Well, this is a working ship, you see, said Ford. These are the Dentrassi sleeping quarters.
I thought you said they were called Vogons or something.
Yes, said Ford, the Vogons run the ship, the Dentrassis are the cooks, they let us on board.
Im confused, said Arthur.
Here, have a look at this, said Ford. He sat down on one of the mattresses and rummaged about in his satchel. Arthur prodded the mattress nervously and then sat on it himself: in fact he had very little to be nervous about, because all mattresses grown in the swamps of Squornshellous Zeta are very thoroughly killed and dried before being put to service. Very few have ever come to life again.
Ford handed the book to Arthur.
What is it? asked Arthur.
The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. Its a sort of electronic book. It tells you everything you need to know about anything. Thats its job.
Arthur turned it over nervously in his hands.
I
like the cover, he said. Dont Panic. Its the first helpful or intelligible thing anybodys said to me all day.
Ill show you how it works, said Ford. He snatched it from Arthur who was still holding it as if it was a two-week-dead lark and pulled it out of its cover.
You press this button here you see and the screen lights up giving you the index.
A screen, about three inches by four, lit up and characters began to flicker across the surface.
You want to know about Vogons, so I enter that name so. His fingers tapped some more keys. And there we are.
The words Vogon Constructor Fleets flared in green across the screen.
Ford pressed a large red button at the bottom of the screen and words began to undulate across it. At the same time, the book began to speak the entry as well in a still quiet measured voice. This is what the book said.
Vogon Constructor Fleets. Here is what to do if you want to get a lift from a Vogon: forget it. They are one of the most unpleasant races in the Galaxynot actually evil, but bad tempered, bureaucratic, officious and callous. They wouldnt even lift a finger to save their own grandmothers from the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal without orders signed in triplicate, sent in, sent back, queried, lost, found, subjected to public inquiry, lost again, and finally buried in soft peat and recycled as firelighters.
The best way to get a drink out of a Vogon is to stick your finger down his throat, and the best way to irritate him is to feed his grandmother to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal.
On no account allow a Vogon to read poetry at you.
Arthur blinked at it.
What a strange book. How did we get a lift then?
Thats the point, its out of date now, said Ford, sliding the book back into its cover. Im doing the field research for the New Revised Edition, and one of the things Ill have to include is a bit about how the Vogons now employ Dentrassi cooks which gives us a rather useful little loophole.
A pained expression crossed Arthurs face. But who are the Dentrassi? he said.