[torturing Ford and Arthur by reading poetry to them]Vogon captain: O freddled gruntbuggly / Thy micturations are to me / As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee / That mordiously hath bitled out its earted jurtles / Into a rancid festering...[Arthur and Ford's moaning drowns out the poetry]Vogon captain: Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustules / Are splurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts / And living glupules frat and slipulate / Like jowling meated liverslime / Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes / And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles / Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon, see if I don't.
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