"page133" - читать интересную книгу автора (starshiptitanic)
Douglas Adams' Starship Titanic
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'But she loves me!' he cried from the depths of his despair.'But she is not real...' came an answering echo as his thoughts bounced off the bare cell walls. 'You created her!'This change that overcame Leovinus, in his Oxfordshire prison cell, would be unfortunately powerful ammunition for right-wing politicians who trumpet the beneficial effects of jail. Fortunately, however, it went totally unnoticed by anyone with political clout on Earth.Leovinus had just reached that point of self-castigation at which he was really beginning to enjoy it, when he was rudely interrupted.'Visitors for you, Chang!' said Constable Hackett. He had grown rather fond of the old fellow over the past week.The door was flung open and the dreadful Journalist entered accompanied by an extraordinarily attractive female alien, all the more attractive for being dressed Yassaccan style, in the simple transparent shift with the single motif on the side which indicated that the wearer was unmarried and interested in proposals.She was also wearing that fabulously expensive Yassaccan scent that was now almost unobtainable on Blerontin.'My dear friend!' exclaimed Leovinus to The (surprised) Journalist. 'You are far more worthy of freedom and happiness than I!' It was an odd thing to say to the first Blerontinian to walk in through the door, but Leovinus, who had just been thinking he'd never get a chance to say it, said it anyway.'There's not a moment to lose!' exclaimed the remarkably attractive and remarkably available female alien. 'We've only got an hour left!''Have you got it?' cried The Journalist.'I don't know...' replied Leovinus. 'I am no longer sure what I have got and what I have not. When I look back on my life, I almost feel I have thrown it all away and I have been left with nothing. Dear lady, will you marry me?' Leovinus knew it was considered poor manners not to propose to any young female wearing the specially patterned shift.'Have you got the central intelligence core? Titania's brain!' interposed The Journalist before Nettie could reply.
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Douglas Adams' Starship Titanic
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'But she loves me!' he cried from the depths of his despair.'But she is not real...' came an answering echo as his thoughts bounced off the bare cell walls. 'You created her!'This change that overcame Leovinus, in his Oxfordshire prison cell, would be unfortunately powerful ammunition for right-wing politicians who trumpet the beneficial effects of jail. Fortunately, however, it went totally unnoticed by anyone with political clout on Earth.Leovinus had just reached that point of self-castigation at which he was really beginning to enjoy it, when he was rudely interrupted.'Visitors for you, Chang!' said Constable Hackett. He had grown rather fond of the old fellow over the past week.The door was flung open and the dreadful Journalist entered accompanied by an extraordinarily attractive female alien, all the more attractive for being dressed Yassaccan style, in the simple transparent shift with the single motif on the side which indicated that the wearer was unmarried and interested in proposals.She was also wearing that fabulously expensive Yassaccan scent that was now almost unobtainable on Blerontin.'My dear friend!' exclaimed Leovinus to The (surprised) Journalist. 'You are far more worthy of freedom and happiness than I!' It was an odd thing to say to the first Blerontinian to walk in through the door, but Leovinus, who had just been thinking he'd never get a chance to say it, said it anyway.'There's not a moment to lose!' exclaimed the remarkably attractive and remarkably available female alien. 'We've only got an hour left!''Have you got it?' cried The Journalist.'I don't know...' replied Leovinus. 'I am no longer sure what I have got and what I have not. When I look back on my life, I almost feel I have thrown it all away and I have been left with nothing. Dear lady, will you marry me?' Leovinus knew it was considered poor manners not to propose to any young female wearing the specially patterned shift.'Have you got the central intelligence core? Titania's brain!' interposed The Journalist before Nettie could reply.
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