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A
million-gallon
vat
of
custard
upended
itself
over
them
without
warning
.
"
But
what
does
it
mean
?
"
cried
Arthur
.
"
What
,
the
custard
?
"
"
No
,
the
measurement
of
probability
!
"
"
I
do
n't
know
.
I
do
n't
know
at
all
.
I
think
we
're
on
some
kind
of
spaceship
.
"
"
I
can
only
assume
,
"
said
Arthur
,
"
that
this
is
not
the
first-class
compartment
.
"
Bulges
appeared
in
the
fabric
of
space-time
.
Great
ugly
bulges
.
"
Haaaauuurrgghhh
...
"
said
Arthur
as
he
felt
his
body
softening
and
bending
in
unusual
directions
.
"
Southend
seems
to
be
melting
away
...
the
stars
are
swirling
...
a
dustbowl
...
my
legs
are
drifting
off
into
the
sunset
...
my
left
arm
's
come
off
too
.
"
A
frightening
thought
struck
him
:
"
Hell
,
"
he
said
,
"
how
am
I
going
to
operate
my
digital
watch
now
?
"
He
wound
his
eyes
desperately
around
in
Ford
's
direction
.
"
Ford
,
"
he
said
,
"
you
're
turning
into
a
penguin
.
Stop
it
.
"
Again
came
the
voice
.
