For a few interminable seconds the Restaurant span silently through the raging void. Then Max spoke again.
“For those of you who ever hoped to see the light at the end of the tunnel,” he said, “this is it.”
The band struck up again.
“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,” cried Max, “I’ll be back with you again in just a moment, and meanwhile I leave you in the very capable hands of Mr. Reg Nullify and his cataclysmic Combo. Big hand please ladies and gentlemen for Reg and the boys!”
The baleful turmoil of the skies continued. Hesitantly the audience began to clap and after a moment or so normal conversation resumed. Max began his round of the tables, swapping jokes, shouting with laughter, earning his living.
A large dairy animal approached Zaphod Beeblebrox’s table, a large fat meaty quadruped of the bovine type with large watery eyes, small horns and what might almost have been an ingratiating smile on its lips.
“Good evening,” it lowed and sat back heavily on its haunches, “I am the main Dish of the Day. May I interest you in parts of my body?” It harrumphed and gurgled a bit, wriggled its hind quarters into a more comfortable position and gazed peacefully at them.
Its gaze was met by looks of startled bewilderment from Arthur and Trillian, a resigned shrug from Ford Prefect and naked hunger from Zaphod Beeblebrox.
“Something off the shoulder perhaps?” suggested the animal, “Braised in a white wine sauce?”
“Er, your shoulder?” said Arthur in a horrified whisper.
“But naturally my shoulder, sir,” mooed the animal contentedly, “nobody else’s is mine to offer.”
Zaphod leapt to his feet and started prodding and feeling the animal’s shoulder appreciatively.
“Or the rump is very good,” murmured the animal. “I’ve been exercising it and eating plenty of grain, so there’s a lot of good meat there.” It gave a mellow grunt, gurgled again and started to chew the cud. It swallowed the cud again.
“Or a casserole of me perhaps?” it added.
“You mean this animal actually wants us to eat it?” whispered Trillian to Ford.
“Me?” said Ford, with a glazed look in his eyes, “I don’t mean anything.”
“That’s absolutely horrible,” exclaimed Arthur, “the most revolting thing I’ve ever heard.”
“What’s the problem, Earthman?” said Zaphod, now transferring his attention to the animal’s enormous rump. “I just don’t want to eat an animal that’s standing here inviting me to,” said Arthur, “it’s heartless.”
“Better than eating an animal that doesn’t want to be eaten,” said Zaphod.
“That’s not the point,” Arthur protested. Then he thought about it for a moment. “Alright,” he said, “maybe it is the point. I don’t care, I’m not going to think about it now. I’ll just… er…”
The Universe raged about him in its death throes.