Mr. L. Prosser was, as they say, only human. In other words, it was a form of carbon-based bipedal life descended from a monkey. In particular, Mr. Prosser was forty years old, was fat and shabby and worked for the local council. Curiously enough it was, although he did not know, a direct descendant in the paternal line of Genghis Khan. But racial mixtures occurred in successive generations, had so altered his genes that were found more in him the characteristics of the Mongolian, and that the only traces of his August ancestors were a big belly and a certain fondness for hats with hair. Prosser had absolutely no hardening of the great warrior but a man was nervous and worried. That day was very nervous and worried because it had gone bad an issue for his work (his job was to ensure that the house of Arthur Dent was demolished before sunset). [...]
Mr Prosser's mouth opened and closed a couple of times without being able to say anything in his mind for a moment, followed strange images, but terribly attractive. Pictures of the house of Arthur Dent consumed by a raging fire, and Arthur Dent screaming and fleeing the flaming ruins, with three heavy spears stuck in his back. Mr Prosser was often disturbed by such images, that quite nervous. Confusedly stammered something, then regained control of himself.
- Mr Dent.
- Eh? Yes? - said Arthur.
- Let me give you some concrete figures. You have no idea what damage that bulldozer would if you just go over there I did?
- What gives? - Said Arthur.
- absolutely no! - Said Mr. Prosser, and walked away angry, wondering why he felt a slap on the head like a thousand horses of the Tartars.
Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy "
Mondadori, 1999 [pg. 13-16]
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