Lunkwill: Do you…
Deep Thought: Have an answer for you? Yes. But you’re not going to like it.
Fook: Please tell us. We must know!
Deep Thought: Okay. The answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything is…
[wild cheers from audience, then silence]
Deep Thought: 42.
Ford: You’re looking for the Ultimate Question.
Zaphod: No, I tried that: Why? 42. Doesn’t work.
Arthur Dent: Just wait a sodding minute! You want a question that goes with the answer for 42? Well, how about what’s six times seven? Or how many Vogons does it take to change a lightbulb? Here’s one! How many roads must a man walk down?
Lunkwill: Hey, that’s not bad!
Arthur Dent: Fine. Fine, take it. Because my head is filled with questions and I can assure you no answer to any one of them has ever brought me one iota of happiness. Except for one. The one. The only question I’ve ever wanted an answer to – is she the one? The answer bloody well isn’t forty-two, it’s yes. Undoubtedly, unequivocally, unabashadly yes. And for one week, one week in my sad little blip of an existence, it made me happy.
Trillian: That’s a good answer…
Lunkwill: Rubbish, we don’t want to be happy, we want to be famous!
Fook: Yeah! What is all this “is she the one” tripe?
Lunkwill: Take his brain!