And that’s the deciding factor. We can’t win against obsession. They care, we don’t. They win.
I care about lots of things, said Slartibartfast, his voice trembling partly with annoyance, but partly also with uncertainty.
Such as?
Well, said the old man, life, the Universe. Everything, really. Fjords.
Would you die for them?
Fjords? blinked Slartibartfast in surprise. No.
Well then.
Wouldn’t see the point, to be honest.
And I still can’t see the connection, said Arthur, with whelks.
Ford could feel the conversation slipping out of his control, and refused to be sidetracked by anything at this point.
The point is, he hissed, that we are not obsessive people, and we don’t stand a chance against…
Except for your sudden obsession with whelks, pursued Arthur, which I still haven’t understood.
Will you please leave whelks out of it?
I will if you will, said Arthur. You brought the subject up.
It was an error, said Ford, forget them. The point is this.
He leant forward and rested his forehead on the tips of his fingers.
What was I talking about? he said wearily.
Let’s just go down to the party, said Slartibartfast, for whatever reason. He stood up, shaking his head.
I think that’s what I was trying to say, said Ford.
For some unexplained reason, the teleport cubicles were in the bathroom.