An excerpt from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Travel to outer space with The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams! Read an exclusive excerpt from this childhood favourite and pop-culture classic on Reading Space🚀

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Here's what The Encyclopaedia Galactica has to say about alcohol. It says that alcohol is a colourless volatile liquid formed by the fermentation of sugars and also notes its intoxicating effect on certain carbon-based life forms.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy also mentions alcohol. It says that the best drink in existence is the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster. It says that the effect of drinking a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster is like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick.

The Guide also tells you on which planets the best Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters are mixed, how much you can expect to pay for one and what voluntary organizations exist to help you rehabilitate afterwards.

The Guide even tells you how you can mix one yourself. Take the juice from one bottle of that Ol' Janx Spirit, it says. Pour into it one measure of water from the seas of Santraginus V – Oh, that Aantraginean sea-water, it says. Oh, those Santraginean fish!!!

Allow three cubes of Arcturan Mega-gin to melt into the mixture (it must be properly iced or the benzine is lost).

Allow four litres of Fallian marsh gas to bubble through it, in memory of all those happy Hikers who have died of pleasure in the Marshes of Fallia.

Over the back of a silver spoon float a measure of Qualactin Hyper-mint extract, redolent of all the heady odours of the dark Qualactin Zones, subtle, sweet and mystic.

Drop in the tooth of an Algolian Suntiger. Watch it dissolve, spreading the fires of the Algolian Suns deep into the heart of the drink.

Sprinkle Zamphuor.Add an olive.Drink . . . but . . . very carefully . . .

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy sells rather better than The Encyclopaedia Galactica.

'Six pints of bitter,' said Ford Prefect to the barman of the Horse and Groom. 'And quickly, please,the world's about to end.'

The barman of the Horse and Groom didn't deserve this sort of treatment, he was a dignified old man. He pushed his glasses up his nose and blinked at Ford Prefect. Ford ignored him and stared out of the window, so the barman looked instead at Arthur, who shrugged helplessly and said nothing.

So the barman said, 'Oh yes, sir? Nice weather for it,' and started pulling pints.He tried again.'Going to watch the match this afternoon, then?'Ford glanced round at him.'No, no point,' he said, and looked back out of the window.'What's that foregone conclusion then you reckon, sir?' said the barman. 'Arsenal without a chance?'

'No, no,' said Ford, 'it's just that the world's about to end.' 'Oh yes, sir, so you said,' said the barman, looking over his glasses this time at Arthur. 'Lucky escape for Arsenal if it did.'

Ford looked back at him, genuinely surprised.'No, not really,' he said. He frowned.The barman breathed in heavily. 'There you are, sir, six pints,' he said.

Arthur smiled at him wanly and shrugged again. He turned and smiled wanly at the rest of the pub just in case any of them had heard what was going on.

None of them had, and none of them could understand what he was smiling at them for.

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