"Is it my Lord's desire that his servant should hop it?" asked the spirit, abandoning his usual formula. He was, he felt, just beginning to settle down to his new master's ways.
"No," said Alf, fixing his eyes on vacancy. "Bring me two beers, please, Eustace."
"Two biers, O possessor of wisdom?" repeated the djinn, wondering if his startled ears could have heard aright.
"Yes. Two beers, I said. And 'urry up."
Eustace bowed low, muttered "Thy wish is my command," and vanished. Almost immediately afterwards, with a dull thud apiece, two cumbersome and curiously carved stone sarcophagi fell side by side into the trench, which they blocked completely. Alf and Bill gazed open-mouthed first at the two sepulchers and then at one another.
"What the 'ell's this mean?" asked Bill at last.
Alf, mortified beyond measure at the failure of his attempt to impress his pal, gave a resigned gesture.
"What did I tell yer?" he asked. "That's the kind o' thing 'e's always doin'! No common sense."
"Well, p'raps 'e misunderstood yer. P'raps 'e thought you wanted...."
"Thought I wanted! Didn't I speak plain English? Ain't 'beer' plain enough for 'im? 'Ow can 'e 'ave misunderstood 'beer'?"