Part 12 (1/2)
”No,” said Zaphod, ”I do not mean everything's under control. That would not be cool and froody. If you want to know what happened let's just say I had the whole situation in my pocket.
OK?”
Ford shrugged.
Zaphod giggled into his drink. It frothed up over the side of the gla.s.s and started to eat its way into the marble bar top.
A wild-skinned sky-gypsy approached them and played electric violin at them until Zaphod gave him a lot of money and he agreed to go away again.
The gypsy approached Arthur and Trillian sitting in another part of the bar.
”I don't know what this place is,” said Arthur, ”but I think it gives me the creeps.”
”Have another drink,” said Trillian, ”Enjoy yourself.”
”Which?” said Arthur, ”the two are mutually exclusive.”
”Poor Arthur, you're not really cut out for this life are you?”
”You call this life?”
”You're beginning to sound like Marvin.”
”Marvin's the clearest thinker I know. How do you think we make this violinist go away?”
The waiter approached.
”Your table is ready,” he said.
Seen from the outside, which it never is, the Restaurant resembles a giant glittering starfish beached on a forgotten rock. Each of its arms houses the bars, the kitchens, the forcefield generators which protect the entire structure and the decayed planet on which it sits, and the Time Turbines which slowly rock the whole affair backwards and forwards across the crucial moment.
In the centre sits the gigantic golden dome, almost a complete globe, and it was into this area that Zaphod, Ford, Arthur and Trillian now pa.s.sed.
At least five tons of glitter alone had gone into it before them, and covered every available surface. The other surfaces were not available because they were already encrusted with jewels, precious sea sh.e.l.ls from Santraginus, gold leaf, mosaic tiles, lizard skins and a million unidentifiable embellishments and decorations. Gla.s.s glittered, silver shone, gold gleamed, Arthur Dent goggled.
”Wowee,” said Zaphod, ”Zappo.”
”Incredible!” breathed Arthur, ”the people...! The things...
”The things,” said Ford Prefect quietly, ”are also people.”
”The people...” resumed Arthur, ”the... other people...”
”The lights...!” said Trillian.
”The tables...” said Arthur.
”The clothes...!” said Trillian.
The waiter thought they sounded like a couple of bailiffs.
”The End of the Universe is very popular,” said Zaphod threading his way unsteadily through the throng of tables, some made of marble, some of rich ultra-mahagony, some even of platinum, and at each a party of exotic creatures chatting amongst themselves and studying menus.
”People like to dress up for it,” continued Zaphod, ”Gives it a sense of occasion.”
The tables were fanned out in a large circle around a central stage area where a small band were playing light music, at least a thousand tables was Arthur's guess, and interspersed amongst them were swaying palms, hissing fountains, grotesque statuary, in short all the paraphernalia common to all Restaurants where little expense has been spared to give the impression that no expense has been spared. Arthur glanced around, half expecting to see someone making an American Express commercial.
Zaphod lurched into Ford, who lurched back into Zaphod.
”Wowee,” said Zaphod.
”Zappo,” said Ford.
”My great granddaddy must have really screwed up the computer's works, you know,” said Zaphod, ”I told it to take us to the nearest place to eat and it sends us to the End of the Universe. Remind me to be nice to it one day.”
He paused.
”Hey, everybody's here you know. Everybody who was anybody.”
”Was?” said Arthur.
”At the End of the Universe you have to use the past tense a lot,” said Zaphod, ”'cos everything's been done you know. Hi, guys,” he called out to a nearby party of giant iguana lifeforms, ”How did you do?”
”Is that Zaphod Beeblebrox?” asked one iguana of another iguana.
”I think so,” replied the second iguana.
”Well doesn't that just take the biscuit,” said the first iguana.
”Funny old thing, life,” said the second iguana.
”It's what you make of it,” said the first and they lapsed back into silence. They were waiting for the greatest show in the Universe.
”Hey, Zaphod,” said Ford, grabbing for his arm and, on account of the third Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, missing. He pointed a swaying finger.
”There's an old mate of mine,” he said, ”Hotblack Desiato! See the man at the platinum table with the platinum suit on?”
Zaphod tried to follow Ford's finger with his eyes but it made him feel dizzy. Finally he saw.
”Oh yeah,” he said, then recognition came a moment later. ”Hey,” he said, ”did that guy ever make it megabig! Wow, bigger than the biggest thing ever. Other than me.”
”Who's he supposed to be?” asked Trillian.
”Hotblack Desiato?” said Zaphod in astonishment, ”you don't know?