‘Six pints of bitter,’ said Ford Prefect to the barman of the Horse and Groom. ‘And quickly please, the world’s about to end.’The barman of the Horse and Groom didn’t deserve this sort of treatment, he was a dignified old man. He pushed his glasses up his nose and blinked at Ford Prefect. Ford ignored him and stared out of the window, so the barman looked instead at Arthur who shrugged helplessly and said nothing.
So the barman said, ‘Oh yes sir? Nice weather for it,’ and started pulling pints.
He tried again.
‘Going to watch the match this afternoon then?’
Ford glanced round at him.
‘No, no point,’ he said, and looked back out of the window.
‘What’s that, foregone conclusion then you reckon sir?’ said the barman. ‘Arsenal without a chance?’
‘No no,’ said Ford, ‘it’s just that the world’s about to end.’
‘Oh yes sir, so you said,’ said the barman, looking over his glasses this time at Arthur. ‘Lucky escape for Arsenal if it did.’
Ford looked back at him genuinely surprised.
‘No, not really,’ he said. He frowned.
The barman breathed in heavily. ‘There you are sir, six pints,’ he said.
- Douglas Adams in The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy