Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent were relaxing at the Horse
and Groom. Ford was teaching the barkeeper (who thought Ford
was quite insane, since last time the two spoke, Ford had
told him that the Earth was being destroyed) how to
make a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster. Arthur was looking
through the want ads of a newspaper for a job.
  Fenchurch was thumbing through The Hitchhiker's Guide to
the Galaxy.
  The keyboard was quite worn, the letters faded, and the
screen had turned a sickening shade of green. Fenchurch
didn't have a fish in her ear. So, of course,  she didn't
understand how to use the Guide, and was pressing buttons at
random. Somehow, she hit the F1 key, and the letters:
                      ATDT5598723
appeared on the screen. The speaker in the wall stopped
playing opera (which stopped the now-pointless dart game)
and through it, Fenchurch could hear a dial tone. Then the
sounds of a touchtone phone.

As the sound of a ringing phone filled the hall, Ford tapped
Arthur on the shoulder, whispering something about "hey,
Arthur, it's GTE!"

The ringing stopped. There was a click. Then silence. Then a
shrill screeching tone. Then that was replaced by a hiss.
And then the opera came back on. But on Fenchurch's screen
were the words:

Please press SPACEBAR.

She pressed the spacebar.

Her screen cleared.  And, in a few moments, it read:

Panic, because this is Milliways GBBS etc.

"Arthur," she said as she crossed to his stool, "What's this?"

Arthur raised a finger, indicating "wait one moment while I
circle this promising-looking ad for some detective named
Dirk Gently."
         [this is line 42. just so you'd know.]
"Thanks," said Arthur, and turned to Ford. "Did you see that
little note pass by? I think I like this new group of
authors. Ever since they started writing "A World in
Edgewise" on that BBS called Milliways (and I'm proud to be
one of them), the Universe has never been the same."

"Arthur," said Fenchurch, "Is this what you're talking
about?"

She indicated the screen of the Hitchhiker's Guide.

"Yes," said Arthur, and continued searching.

"What?" asked Ford, whose Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster Five
Senses-in-One Compensator For Those Really Good Parties was
in Delay mode. He listened to the empty space where Arthur's
voice had been for a while, and then nodded and turned back
to the bar.

"Oh," said Fenchurch, and logged in as a New User. "Hey!
Look at this! No validation, and a sense of humor!"

"Yes," said Arthur.

"But why then are there next-to-no messages and no
activity?"

"Yes," said Ford.

"Because," said Arthur, "Nobody who calls it appreciates it,
and nobody who would appreciate it calls it often (except
the two of us)."

"That's a shame," said Fenchurch, answering "Y" to Post
Here?, and posting that she was a new user and isn't
that nice, any comments, and what did everyone think about
that time a few years back when the world got destroyed,
wasn't that a shock?

"You should see the Sig Creation and everything," said
Arthur, "It's hard to believe nobody posts."

"Yeah, we do call as often as possible," said Ford.

Fenchurch created a Sig for Hitchhikers, had a nice chat
with the SysOp, and logged out. The system hung up and she
talked to Arthur again.

"What other numbers do you call?" she asked.

"What do you mean, what other numbers? I don't know if there
are any other numbers. I guess there must be, but nothing
can possibly come close to Milliways."

"That Sig Creation's hoopy!" cried Ford, over his thirtieth
Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.

Arthur continued searching for a job. Ford tried to drink
his thirty-first Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster but forgot
which of the people in the bar he was, and mentally
transported himself into at least fifty others and drank
their drinks but they didn't taste quite right, so at last
he did end up back in his own body but forgot what he looked
like and began putting his drink into other customers'
mouths.

He found his and filled it once more, just pausing long
enough to reply to the message that he had just heard:

"Yeah, nothing can come close to Milliways..."

and he started his thirty-second Pan Galactic Gargle
Blaster.

Milliways GBBS etc., The BBS at the End of the Universe.
                     (310) 559-8723.
Call now. Who knows if you'll wake up tomorrow morning and
find that the Vogons have decided to have another go at it?