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- Стр. 66/224
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The
Vogon
began
to
read
--
a
fetid
little
passage
of
his
own
devising
.
"
Oh
frettled
gruntbuggly
...
"
he
began
.
Spasms
wracked
Ford
's
body
--
this
was
worse
than
ever
he
'd
been
prepared
for
.
"
?
...
thy
micturations
are
to
me
As
plurdled
gabbleblotchits
on
a
lurgid
bee
.
"
"
Aaaaaaarggggghhhhhh
!
"
went
Ford
Prefect
,
wrenching
his
head
back
as
lumps
of
pain
thumped
through
it
.
He
could
dimly
see
beside
him
Arthur
lolling
and
rolling
in
his
seat
.
He
clenched
his
teeth
.
"
Groop
I
implore
thee
,
"
continued
the
merciless
Vogon
,
"
my
foonting
turlingdromes
.
"
His
voice
was
rising
to
a
horrible
pitch
of
impassioned
stridency
.
"
And
hooptiously
drangle
me
with
crinkly
bindlewurdles
,
Or
I
will
rend
thee
in
the
gobberwarts
with
my
blurglecruncheon
,
see
if
I
do
n't
!
"
"
Nnnnnnnnnnyyyyyyyuuuuuuurrrrrrrggggggghhhhh
!
"
cried
Ford
Prefect
and
threw
one
final
spasm
as
the
electronic
enhancement
of
the
last
line
caught
him
full
blast
across
the
temples
.
He
went
limp
.
Arthur
lolled
.
"
Now
Earthlings
...
"
whirred
the
Vogon
(
he
did
n't
know
that
Ford
Prefect
was
in
fact
from
a
small
planet
in
the
vicinity
of
Betelgeuse
,
and
would
n't
have
cared
if
he
had
)
"
I
present
you
with
a
simple
choice
!
Either
die
in
the
vacuum
of
space
,
or
...
"
he
paused
for
melodramatic
effect
,
"
tell
me
how
good
you
thought
my
poem
was
!
"
He
threw
himself
backwards
into
a
huge
leathery
bat-shaped
seat
and
watched
them
.
He
did
the
smile
again
.
