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- Дуглас Адамс
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As
he
grinned
his
heart
screamed
unbearably
and
he
fingered
the
small
Paralyso-Matic
bomb
that
nestled
quietly
in
his
pocket
.
Finally
he
could
bear
it
no
more
.
He
lifted
his
heads
up
to
the
sky
,
let
out
a
wild
whoop
in
major
thirds
,
threw
the
bomb
to
the
ground
and
ran
forward
through
the
sea
of
suddenly
frozen
smiles
.
Prostetnic
Vogon
Jeltz
was
not
a
pleasant
sight
,
even
for
other
Vogons
.
His
highly
domed
nose
rose
high
above
a
small
piggy
forehead
.
His
dark
green
rubbery
skin
was
thick
enough
for
him
to
play
the
game
of
Vogon
Civil
Service
politics
,
and
play
it
well
,
and
waterproof
enough
for
him
to
survive
indefinitely
at
sea
depths
of
up
to
a
thousand
feet
with
no
ill
effects
.
Not
that
he
ever
went
swimming
of
course
.
His
busy
schedule
would
not
allow
it
.
He
was
the
way
he
was
because
billions
of
years
ago
when
the
Vogons
had
first
crawled
out
of
the
sluggish
primeval
seas
of
Vogsphere
,
and
had
lain
panting
and
heaving
on
the
planet
's
virgin
shores
...
when
the
first
rays
of
the
bright
young
Vogsol
sun
had
shone
across
them
that
morning
,
it
was
as
if
the
forces
of
evolution
had
simply
given
up
on
them
there
and
then
,
had
turned
aside
in
disgust
and
written
them
off
as
an
ugly
and
unfortunate
mistake
.
They
never
evolved
again
;
they
should
never
have
survived
.
The
fact
that
they
did
is
some
kind
of
tribute
to
the
thick-willed
slug-brained
stubbornness
of
these
creatures
.
Evolution
?
they
said
to
themselves
,
Who
needs
it
?
,
and
what
nature
refused
to
do
for
them
they
simply
did
without
until
such
time
as
they
were
able
to
rectify
the
grosser
anatomical
inconveniences
with
surgery
.
Meanwhile
,
the
natural
forces
on
the
planet
Vogsphere
had
been
working
overtime
to
make
up
for
their
earlier
blunder
.
They
brought
forth
scintillating
jewelled
scuttling
crabs
,
which
the
Vogons
ate
,
smashing
their
shells
with
iron
mallets
;
tall
aspiring
trees
with
breathtaking
slenderness
and
colour
which
the
Vogons
cut
down
and
burned
the
crab
meat
with
;
elegant
gazelle-like
creatures
with
silken
coats
and
dewy
eyes
which
the
Vogons
would
catch
and
sit
on
.
They
were
no
use
as
transport
because
their
backs
would
snap
instantly
,
but
the
Vogons
sat
on
them
anyway
.
Thus
the
planet
Vogsphere
whiled
away
the
unhappy
millennia
until
the
Vogons
suddenly
discovered
the
principles
of
interstellar
travel
.
Within
a
few
short
Vog
years
every
last
Vogon
had
migrated
to
the
Megabrantis
cluster
,
the
political
hub
of
the
Galaxy
and
now
formed
the
immensely
powerful
backbone
of
the
Galactic
Civil
Service
.
They
have
attempted
to
acquire
learning
,
they
have
attempted
to
acquire
style
and
social
grace
,
but
in
most
respects
the
modern
Vogon
is
little
different
from
his
primitive
forebears
.
Every
year
they
import
twenty-seven
thousand
scintillating
jewelled
scuttling
crabs
from
their
native
planet
and
while
away
a
happy
drunken
night
smashing
them
to
bits
with
iron
mallets
.
Prostetnic
Vogon
Jeltz
was
a
fairly
typical
Vogon
in
that
he
was
thoroughly
vile
.
Also
,
he
did
not
like
hitchhikers
.
Somewhere
in
a
small
dark
cabin
buried
deep
in
the
intestines
of
Prostetnic
Vogon
Jeltz
's
flagship
,
a
small
match
flared
nervously
.
The
owner
of
the
match
was
not
a
Vogon
,
but
he
knew
all
about
them
and
was
right
to
be
nervous
.
His
name
was
Ford
Prefect
[
2
]
.
