“Marvin!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing?” “Don’t feel you have to take any notice of me, please,” came a muffled drone. “But how are you, metalman?” said Ford. “Very depressed.” “What’s up?” “I don’t know,” said Marvin, “I’ve never been there.” “Why,” said Ford squatting down beside him and shivering, “are you lying face down in the dust?” “It’s a very effective way of being wretched,” said Marvin. “Don’t pretend you want to talk to me, I know you hate me.” “No, I don’t.” “Yes, you do, everybody does. It’s part of the shape of the Universe. I only have to talk to somebody and they begin to
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