Facing annihilation at the hands of the warlike Vogons is a curious time to have a craving for tea. It could only happen to the cosmically displaced Arthur Dent and his curious comrades in arms as they hurtle across space powered by pure improbability–and desperately in search of a place to eat.
Among Arthur’s motley shipmates are Ford Prefect, a longtime friend and expert contributor to the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy; Zaphod Beeblebrox, the three-armed, two-headed ex-president of the galaxy; Tricia McMillan, a fellow Earth refugee who’s gone native (her name is Trillian now); and Marvin, the moody android who suffers nothing and no one very gladly. Their destination? The ultimate hot spot for an evening of apocalyptic entertainment and fine dining, where the food (literally) speaks for itself.
Will they make it? The answer: hard to say. But bear in mind that the Hitchhiker’s Guide deleted the term “Future Perfect” from its pages, since it was discovered not to be!
“But what about the End of the Universe? We’ll miss the big moment.”
“I’ve seen it. It’s rubbish,” said Zaphod, “nothing but a gnab gib.”
“Opposite of a big bang. Come on, let’s get zappy.”
I found The Restaurant at the End of the Universe to be even better than The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I may have been more settled into the story or more prepared for the writing style or maybe just being less aware of the storyline helped. I felt I didn’t need to suspend disbelief quite as often and the narrative felt more grounded, less insane. Don’t get me wrong – The Restaurant at the End of the Universe is still completely nonsensical and illogical, it’s just a little easier to follow. Full of snappy comebacks and snide comments, I truly enjoyed myself and am looking forward to whatever comes next in Life, the Universe and Everything.
“Maybe somebody here tipped off the Galactic Police,” said Trillian. “Everyone saw you come in.”
“You mean they want to arrest me over the phone?” said Zaphod. “Could be. I’m a pretty dangerous dude when I’m cornered.”
“Yeah,” said a voice from under the table, “you go to pieces so fast people get hit by the shrapnel.”