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"Listen, all I want to get my heads around is a stiff drink, preferably served by a wench with obscene tendencies," said Zaphod. "Let Arthur go."

"What?" Shouted Arthur. "I could die!"

"You could save the life of the editor of the Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, man!" Retorted Zaphod. "Get your priorities right. Sheesh, your grip of universal importance is as good as my grip on Eccentrica Gallumbits' bits at this very moment in time. We could both do with taking things in hand a bit more."

"Look, petty in-fighting won't help us," said Ford, trying to calm things down.

"Why not?" Said Arthur. "That's all this poor excuse for an intergalactic waste disposal unit in reverse seems to show any aptitude for."

"Listen pal, if we're talking about aptitude, let me get a banana and see if you can manage to peel it without scratching your arse thinking about it," snarled Zaphod.

"Will you two just give it a rest," pleaded Ford. "Let's just devote our energy to solving this problem. Now let's think."

Marvin, Trillian, Fenchurch and Bolo had finally reached the main computer room. An imposing oak door barred the way.

"Only executives are allowed to enter," said Marvin. "I'll go into a interface room to get us in."

"How?" Asked Bolo.

"Because he's got the brain the size of a planet," said Trillian. "Beat you to it, Marvin."

"I wasn't going to say it anyway," said Marvin. "I was going to say that the executives are as stupid as all other life forms. A digital watch could get in without too much trouble." He went into the interface room.

"He seemed to cheer up a bit after he killed Percival," remarked Fenchurch.

"Remember he's in a new body," said Trillian. "He's probably found a pleasure circuit and doesn't know what to do with it."

They all stared at the door. Nothing happened. Well that wasn't strictly true. The high level of static acid given off by Marvin's attitude was eating its way into the door. The acid gnawed and corroded the helpless door. However, as this was invisible to the naked or even half dressed eye and total corrosion would take 1.347 million years (thirty years short of redecoration which would reverse the process), it would be fair to say that as far as Fenchurch, Bolo and Trillian were concerned, nothing happened. Trillian went over to the interface room, opened the door and was shocked. A female android was spreadeagled on a table, with Marvin perched precariously on top.

"Do you mind?" Said Marvin.

Trillian muttered a very apologetic apology and shut the door. She was tempted to open the door again just to prove to herself that reality hadn't gone AWOL. After a minute Marvin opened the door and shut it behind him.

"Haven't you ever seen a robot interfacing before?" Asked Marvin.

Trillian mouth was stuck in neutral but she managed to gesture a negative response.

"I'd like to tell you about the bugs and the bytes and explain the difference between male and female interface plugs," said Marvin. "But it's dead boring."

"The door's open!" Said Fenchurch.

"And life is dull," said Marvin. "Why state the obvious?"

What was not obvious to most life forms and could be considered one of the Universes best kept secrets is the fact that robots and computers can enjoy a healthy sex life. Computers have often been connected together in the light of the improved performance. This is not due to shared resources, the truth of the matter being that they perform better because they are more relaxed and satisfied after a good bout of interfacing. Robots have often wondered why it's never been taken up in life form work places in place of say, a coffee break. Considering the poor quality of coffee available in such workplaces, this has always been a mystery. Still, the robots don't let on as it give them another reason to snigger. As with most functions performed by computers and robots, a complete set of jargon words have been devised to confuse the layman. A basic translation list now follows (all those of a nervous or prudish disposition, or those who just want to get on with the story, should skip this section).

Interface - Sex

(The thought of a man to machine interface is repulsive to most devices)

Terminals - Breasts

Twin floppy disks - Breasts

Joystick - Penis

(It is often queried why there are two names for breasts and only one for penis, but only by very stupid people)

User defined function - Sexual act (usually kinky)

Stand alone - Wanker

Cluster - Group sex

Replication - Conception

Firewall - Contraception

Handshaking - Foreplay

Baud rate - Level of boredom

Cursor device - Unwilling partner

SCSI - Easy lay

USB - Mythological easy lay

PEEK - Voyeurism

POKE - Sexually inquisitive

GOSUB - Oral sex

INPUT - Down to business

LOAD - Really down to business

Full duplex - Frantic lovemaking

Syntax error - Premature ejaculation

Hyperbolic function - Male orgasm

Graphic display - Female orgasm

'The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy is proud to offer a confidential counselling service for all sexually frustrated or troubled devices. Interface with us and half your problems are solved.'

Arthur, Zaphod and Ford's problem wasn't solved.

"Look, if the truth was that he wasn't a liar, then he didn't lie about the left door being safe," said Ford.

"Uh?" Was all Zaphod could offer. He was much more content trying to vandalise the screen.

"No, no," argued Arthur. "The right door is right, right, because the liar bit wasn't a lie was it!"

Just then, what looked like Trillian walked in.

"Hey, Babe, whatcha doing here," smoothed Zaphod. He had spent years working on his smoothing and had damn near perfected it.

"I'm not your Babe', thank you very much. My name is Cis," said Cis. "I messed up in one of the rooms and ended up looking like this. It's all over."

"Shee," said Zaphod. "I'll sue the bastards for copyright on my woman as well."

"Well, Cis, it isn't over," said Ford. "If you go through the right door, you will be changed back to what you were before."

"Great," said Cis. He walked through the door and was disintegrated.

"Ford!" Protested Arthur.

"Look, how do you know he wasn't a pile of dust before?" Ford replied and walked through the left door.

"Are you sure we are in the right place?" Asked Bolo, looking around at the luscious forest surrounding them. They were in an idyllic clearing by a small crystal clear pond.

"This is the main computer room," said Marvin. "It's a new concept in organic computers."

"You mean this is a computer?" Asked Trillian. "It's a lot better looking than Eddie."

"Arthur would love it," giggled Fenchurch, thinking of time spent in the wooded section of Hyde Park.

"It is based on the fact that most life forms feel relaxed in these surroundings," droned Marvin. "They call it 'user friendly', oh, how I hate that term."

"But how do we key in information?" Asked Trillian.

"You don't," snapped Marvin and broke into song.

"I talk to the trees,

but they don't listen to me.

A spectographic analysis of my voice, is compared to countless voice patterns in memory.

"On parity, they listen to me."

The girls were stunned into silence.

"Well, that's how the adverts were going to run," said Marvin, almost ashamedly. "But they found they wouldn't be able to offer maintenance support. Something to do with there not being enough lumberjacks and gardeners qualified in computer engineering. So they connected the only working model up here and the executives use it to talk to the computers. Give me the days when you could depress a key."

"I think it's romantic," said Fenchurch, putting a daisy in her hair.