While working on a particularlly tricky prompt, I was reminded of The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Douglas Adams’ second book in the Hitchhiker’s Guide series.

Early in the book, Arthur Dent – one of the last humans alive – tries to make a cup of tea, providing us with one of the best examples of prompt engineering in science fiction:

A short while before this, Arthur Dent had set out from his cabin in search of a cup of tea. It was not a quest he embarked upon with a great deal of optimism., because he knew that the only source of hot drinks on the entire ship was a benighted piece of equipment produced by the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation. It was called a Nutri-Matic Drinks Synthesizer, and he had encountered it before.

It claimed to produce the widest possible range of drinks personally matched to the tastes and metabolism of whoever cared to use it. When put to the test, however, it invariably produced a plastic cup filled with a liquid that was almost, but nit quite, entirely unlike tea.

He attempted to reason with the thing. “Tea,” he said.

“Share and Enjoy,” the machine replied and provided him with yet another cup of the sickly liquid.

He threw it away.

“Share and enjoy,” the machine repeated and provided him with another one.

...

Arthur threw away a sixth cup of the liquid.

“Listen, you machine,” he said, “you claim you can synthesize any drink in existence, so why do you keep giving me the same undrinkable stuff?”

“Nutrition and pleasurable sense data,” burbled the machine. “Share and Enjoy.” “It tastes filthy!”

“If you have enjoyed the experience of this drink,” continued the machine, “why not share it with your friends?”

“Because,” said Arthur tartly, “I want to keep them. Will you try to comprehend what I'm telling you? That drink ...”

“That drink,” said the machine sweetly, “was individually tailored to meet your personal requirements for nutrition and pleasure.”

“Ah,” said Arthur, “so I'm a masochist on diet am I?” “Share and Enjoy.”

“Oh shut up.”

“Will that be all?”

Arthur decided to give up.

“Yes,” he said.

Then he decided he'd be dammed if he'd give up.

“No,” he said, “look, it's very, very simple ... all I want ... is a cup of tea. You are going to make one for me. Keep quiet and listen.”

And he sat. He told the Nutri-Matic about India, he told it about China, he told it about Ceylon. He told it about broad leaves drying in the sun. He told it about sil- ver teapots. He told it about summer afternoons on the lawn. He told it about putting in the milk before the tea so it wouldn't get scalded. He even told it (briefly) about the history of the East India Company.

“So that's it, is it?” said the Nutri-Matic when he had finished. “Yes,” said Arthur, “that is what I want.”

“You want the taste of dried leaves boiled in water?”

“Er, yes. With milk.”

“Squirted out of a cow?”

“Well, in a manner of speaking I suppose ...”

“I'm going to need some help with this one,” said the machine tersely. All the cheerful burbling had dropped out of its voice and it now meant business.

The Nutri-Matic promptly takes over all power and computing resources of the spaceship (which is currently under attack) to work on the problem.