> Einstein wrote:
> Primo our first kill will be Torqez, EvilRunt will do the assassination with a pail of lube and 500 condoms.
Oops did I say that outloud?
<<
Torquez glared wildly, his face smeared with sweat as if dipped in lard. Einstein lifted a heavy bucket of lube, swung it happily under Torquez' face, then put it down by his bound right arm. Einstein then lifted a bulky cardboard box, and taunted Torquez with the condoms, then put it by the trestle next to Torquez's bound left arm. Torquez's face was a gorgon mask of rage. A froth seeped past the ball gag in his mouth and spattered the cement floor. He grunted spastically and hoarsely.
Einstein chortled, turned to the gaping EvilRunt. "You take care of him, I have errands. I'll be back after dark with the van to dispose of that. Don't answer the phone or the door. You got that?" "Huh?" muttered Evilrunt. "...Alright look," said Einstein, and tore a condom out of the bag. "Feel that? Use it. On him. I be back. Play quiet." With a quick grin at the naked man strapped to the sawhorse, Einstein ran lightly up the stair. Evilrunt fingered the condom, gazing blankly at Torquez.
Two hours later, after Evilrunt had snapped the 500th condom at Torquez like a rubber band, and was raking the strewn rubbers together into one pile for a fourth round of target practice, Torquez's teeth snapped the straps of the ball gag. Working deftly with his jaws and tongue, he swallowed it and choked himself to death.
The core joke of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is that of course no civilization would develop personal computers with instant remote database recovery, and then waste this technology to find good drinks.
Steve Jobs has ruined this joke.