The Restaurant at the End of the Universe [28]
"It's not so much an afterlife," said Arthur, "more a sort of apres vie."
The chandeliers were in fact a little on the flashy side and the low vaulted ceiling from which they hung would not, in an ideal Universe, have been painted in that particular shade of deep turquoise, and even if it had been it wouldn't have been highlighted by concealed moodlighting. This is not, however, an ideal Universe, as was further evidenced by the eye-crossing patterns of the inlaid marble floor, and the way in which the fronting for the eighty-yard long marble-topped bar had been made. The fronting for the eighty-yard long marble-topped bar had been made by stitching together nearly twenty thousand Antarean Mosaic Lizard skins, despite the fact that the twenty thousand lizards concerned had needed them to keep their insides in.
A few smartly dressed creatures were lounging casually at the bar or relaxing in the richly coloured body-hugging seats that were deployed here and there about the bar area. A young Vl'Hurg officer and his green steaming young lady passed through the large smoked glass doors at the far end of the bar into the dazzling light of the main body of the Restaurant beyond.
Behind Arthur was a large curtained bay window. He pulled aside the corner of the curtain and looked out at a landscape which under normal circumstances would have given Arthur the creeping horrors. These were not, however, normal circumstances, for the thing that froze his blood and made his skin try to crawl up his back and off the top of his head was the sky. The sky was ...
An attendant flunkey politely drew the curtain back into place.
"All in good time, sir," he said.
Zaphod's eyes flashed.
"Hey, hang about you dead guys," he said, "I think we're missing some ultra-important thing here you know. Something somebody said and we missed it."
Arthur was profoundly relieved to turn his attention from what he had just seen.
He said, "I said it was a sort of apres ..."
"Yeah, and don't you wish you hadn't?" said Zaphod, "Ford?"
"I said it was odd."
"Yeah, shrewd but dull, perhaps it was ..."
"Perhaps," interrupted the green blur who had by this time resolved into the shape of a small wizened dark-suited green waiter, "perhaps you would care to discuss the matter over drinks ..."
"Drinks!" cried Zaphod, "that was it! See what you miss if you don't stay alert."
"Indeed sir," said the waiter patiently. "If the lady and gentlemen would care to order drinks before dinner ..."
"Dinner!" Zaphod exclaimed with passion, "Listen, little green person, my stomach could take you home and cuddle you all night for the mere idea."
"... and the Universe," concluded the waiter, determined not to be deflected on his home stretch, "will explode later for your pleasure."
Ford's head swivelled towards him. He spoke with feeling.
"Wow," he said, "What sort of drinks do you serve in this place?"
The waiter laughed a polite little waiter's laugh.
"Ah," he said, "I think sir has perhaps misunderstood me."
"Oh, I hope not," breathed Ford.
The waiter coughed a polite little waiter's cough.
"It is not unusual for our customers to be a little disoriented by the time journey," he said, "so if I might suggest ..."
"Time journey?" said Zaphod.
"Time journey?" said Ford.
"Time journey?" said Trillian.
"You mean this isn't the afterlife?" said Arthur.
The waiter smiled a polite little waiter's smile. He had almost exhausted his polite little waiter repertoire and would soon be slipping into his role of a rather tight lipped and sarcastic little waiter.
"Afterlife sir?" he said, "No sir."
"And we're not dead?" said Arthur.
The waiter tightened his lips.
"Aha, ha," he said, "Sir is most evidently alive, otherwise I would not attempt to serve sir."
In an extraordinary gesture which is pointless attempting to describe, Zaphod Beeblebrox slapped both his foreheads with two of his arms and one of his thighs with the other.
"Hey guys," he said, "This is crazy. We finally did it. We finally got to where we were going. This is Milliways!"
"Yes sir,"