"Douglas Adams - 2 - The Restaurant at the End of the Universe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Adams Douglas)

Then he decided he'd be dammed if he'd give up.
"No," he said, "look, it's very, very simple ... all I want ... is a cup
of tea. You are going to make one for me. Keep quiet and listen."
And he sat. He told the Nutri-Matic about India, he told it about China,
he told it about Ceylon. He told it about broad leaves drying in the sun. He
told it about silver teapots. He told it about summer afternoons on the lawn.
He told it about putting in the milk before the tea so it wouldn't get
scalded. He even told it (briefly) about the history of the East India
Company.
"So that's it, is it?" said the Nutri-Matic when he had finished.
"Yes," said Arthur, "that is what I want."
"You want the taste of dried leaves boiled in water?"
"Er, yes. With milk."
"Squirted out of a cow?"
"Well, in a manner of speaking I suppose ..."
"I'm going to need some help with this one," said the machine tersely. All
the cheerful burbling had dropped out of its voice and it now meant business.
"Well, anything I can do," said Arthur.
"You've done quite enough," the Nutri-Matic informed him.
It summoned up the ship's computer.
"Hi there!" said the ship's computer.
The Nutri-Matic explained about tea to the ship's computer. The computer
boggled, linked logic circuits with the Nutri-Matic and together they lapsed
into a grim silence.
Arthur watched and waited for a while, but nothing further happened.
He thumped it, but still nothing happened.
Eventually he gave up and wandered up to the bridge.
In the empty wastes of space, the Heart of Gold hung still. Around it
blazed the billion pinpricks of the Galaxy. Towards it crept the ugly yellow
lump of the Vogon ship.

Chapter 3

"Does anyone have a kettle?" Arthur asked as he walked on to the bridge,
and instantly began to wonder why Trillian was yelling at the computer to talk
to her, Ford was thumping it and Zaphod was kicking it, and also why there was
a nasty yellow lump on the vision screen.
He put down the empty cup he was carrying and walked over to them.
"Hello?" he said.
At that moment Zaphod flung himself over to the polished marble surfaces
that contained the instruments that controlled the conventional photon drive.
They materialized beneath his hands and he flipped over to manual control. He
pushed, he pulled, he pressed and he swore. The photon drive gave a sickly
judder and cut out again.
"Something up?" said Arthur.
"Hey, didja hear that?" muttered Zaphod as he leapt now for the manual
controls of the Infinite Improbability Drive, "the monkey spoke!"
The Improbability Drive gave two small whines and then also cut out.
"Pure history, man," said Zaphod, kicking the Improbability Drive, "a
talking monkey!"