The Wit & Wisdom of Discworld - By Terry Pratchett Page 0,53

thinking.’

‘Ah. Like the Dean,’ said Ridcully. ‘Any chance of fitting a brain like this into the Dean’s head?’

‘It does weigh ten tons, Archchancellor.’

Ah. Really? Oh. Quite a large crowbar would be in order, then.’

*

‘I … think my name is Bilious. I’m the … I’m the oh God of Hangovers.’

‘I’ve never heard of a God of Hangovers …’

‘You’ve heard of Bibulous, the God of Wine?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Big fat man, wears vine leaves round his head, always pictured with a glass in his hand … Ow. Well, you know why he’s so cheerful? Him and his big face? It’s because he knows he’s going to feel good in the morning! It’s because it’s me that—’

‘—gets the hangovers?’ said Susan.

‘I don’t even drink!’ Bilious swayed. ‘You know when people say “I had fifteen lagers last night and when I woke up my head was clear as a bell”?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Bastards! That’s because I was the one who woke up groaning in a pile of recycled chilli. Just once, I mean just once, I’d like to open my eyes in the morning without my head sticking to something.’

*

‘How do we usually test stuff?’

‘Generally we ask for student volunteers,’ said the Dean.

‘What happens if we don’t get any?’

‘We give it to them anyway’

‘Isn’t that a bit unethical?’

‘Not if we don’t tell them, Archchancellor.’

*

‘I am not losing my hair!’ snapped the Dean. ‘It is just very finely spaced.’

‘Half on your head and half on your hairbrush,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.

‘No sense in bein’ bashful about goin’ bald,’ said Ridcully evenly. ‘Anyway, you know what they say about bald men, Dean.’

‘Yes, they say, “Look at him, he’s got no hair.’”

*

At the far end of the corridor was one of the very tall, very thin windows. It looked out on to the black gardens. Black bushes, black grass, black trees. Skeletal fish cruising in the black waters of a pool, under black water lilies.

There was colour, in a sense, but it was the kind of colour you’d get if you could shine a beam of black through a prism. There were hints of tints, here and there a black you might persuade yourself was a very deep purple or a midnight blue. But it was basically black, under a black sky, because this was the world belonging to Death and that was all there was to it.

*

‘Just shut up, will you?’ Ridcully said. ‘It’s Hogswatch! That’s not the time for silly arguments, all right?’

‘Oh, yes it is,’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies glumly. ‘It’s exactly the time for silly arguments. In our family we were lucky to get through dinner without a reprise of What A Shame Henry Didn’t Go Into Business With Our Ron. Or Why Hasn’t Anyone Taught Those Kids To Use A Knife? That was another favourite.’

‘And the sulks,’ said Ponder Stibbons.

‘Oh, the sulks,’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. ‘Not a proper Hogswatch without everyone sitting staring at different walls.’

‘The games were worse,’ said Ponder.

‘Worse than the kids hitting one another with their toys, do you think? Not a proper Hogswatch afternoon without wheels and bits of broken dolly everywhere and everyone whining. Assault and battery included.’

‘We had a game called Hunt the Slipper,’ said Ponder. ‘Someone hid a slipper. And then we had to find it. And then we had a row.’

‘And then later on someone’ll suggest a board game,’ said Ponder.

‘That’s right. Where no one exactly remembers all the rules.’

‘Which doesn’t stop someone suggesting that you play for pennies.’

‘And five minutes later there’s two people not speaking to one another for the rest of their lives because of tuppence.’

‘And some horrible little kid—’

‘I know, I know! Some little kid who’s been allowed to stay up wins everyone’s money by being a nasty little cut-throat swot!’

‘And don’t forget the presents,’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies, as if reading off some internal list of gloom. ‘How … how full of potential they seem in all that paper, how pregnant with possibilities … and then you open them and basically the wrapping paper was more interesting and you have to say “How thoughtful, that will come in handy!” It’s not better to give than to receive, in my opinion, it’s just less embarrassing.’

‘I’ve worked out,’ said the Senior Wrangler, ‘that over the years I have been a net exporter of Hogswatch presents—’

‘Oh, everyone is,’ said the Chair. ‘You spend a fortune on other people and what you get when all the paper is cleared away is one slipper that’s the wrong colour and