Hogfather

     Ridcully spun. A  corner of  wet towel caught the  gnome on the ear and flicked it onto its back.

     'I  saw you creeping up!' roared the  Archchancellor. 'What's the game, then? Small-time thief, are you?'

     The gnome slid backwards on the soapy surface.

     ' 'ere, what's your game, mister, you ain't supposed to be able to see me!'

     'I'm a wizard! We can see things that are really there, you know,' said Ridcully. 'And in the  case of  the Bursar,  things that aren't  there, too. What's in this bag?'

     'You don't wanna open the bag,  mister! You really don't wanna open the bag!'

     'Why? What have you got in it?'

     The gnome sagged.  'It  ain't what's in  it,  mister. It's what'll come out. I has to let 'em out one at  a time, no knowin' what'd happen  if  they all gets out at once!'

     Ridcully looked interested, and started to undo the string.

     'You'll really wish you hadn't, mister!' the gnome pleaded.

     'Will I? What're you doing here, young man?'

     The gnome gave up.

     'Well ... you know the Tooth Fairy?'

     'Yes. Of course,' said Ridcully.

     'Well ... I ain't her. But ... it's sort of like the same business ...'

     'What? You take things away?'

     'Er not take away, as such. More sort of ... bring ...

     'Ah ... like new teeth?'

     'Er ... like new verrucas,' said the gnome.

     Death threw the sack into the  back  of the sledge and climbed in after it.

     'You're doing well, master,' said Albert.

     THIS CUSHION  IS STILL UNCOMFORTABLE, said Death, hitching his belt.  I AM NOT USED TO A BIG FAT STOMACH.

     'Just a stomach's the best I could do, master. You're starting off with a handicap, sort of thing.'

     Albert  unscrewed the top off a bottle of cold tea.  All the sherry had made him thirsty.

     'Doing well, master,' he repeated, taking a pull. 'All the  soot in the fireplace, the footprints, them swigged sherries, the sleigh tracks all over the roofs ... it's got to work.'

YOU THINK SO?

     'Sure.'

     AND I MADE SURE SOME OF THEM SAW ME. I  KNOW IF THEY ARE PEEPING, Death added proudly.

     'Well done, sir.'

YES.

     'Though here's  a tip, though. Just "Ho.  Ho.  Ho,- will do. Don't say, "Cower, brief mortals" unless you want them to grow up to be moneylenders or some such.'

HO. HO. HO.

     'Yes,  you're  really  getting  the  hang of it.'  Albert  looked  down hurriedly at his notebook so that  Death wouldn't see  his face. 'Now, I got to tell you, master, what'll really do some  good  is  a public  appearance. Really.'

     OH. I DON'T NORMALLY DO THEM.

     'The Hogfather's  more've a public figure,  master. And one good public appearance'll do  more  good  than any  amount  of letting kids  see  you by accident. Good for the old belief muscles.'

REALLY? HO. HO. HO.

     'Right,  right, that's really good, master. Where was I ... yes ... the shops'll  be open late. Lots of kiddies get taken  to see the Hogfather, you see. Not the real one, of course. just  some ole geezer with a pillow up his jumper, saving yer presence, master.'

NOT REAL? HO. HO. HO.

     'Oh, no. And you don't need...'

THE CHILDREN KNOW THIS? HO. HO. HO.

     Albert scratched his nose. 'S'pose so, master.'

THIS  SHOULD NOT BE.  NO WONDER THERE HAS BEEN ... THIS  DIFFICULTY. BELIEF WAS COMPROMISED? HO. HO. HO.

     'Could be, master. Er, the "ho, ho ..."'

WHERE DOES THIS TRAVESTY TAKE PLACE? HO. HO. HO.

     Albert gave up.  'Well, Crumley's in The  Maul, for  one. Very popular, the Hogfather Grotto. They always have a good Hogfather, apparently.'

     LET'S GET THERE AND SLEIGH THEM. HO. HO. HO.

     'Right you are, master.'

     THAT WAS A PUNE OR PLAY ON WORDS, ALBERT. I DON'T KNOW IF YOU NOTICED.

     'I'm laughing like hell deep down, sir.'

HO. HO. HO.

     Archchancellor Ridcully grinned.

     He often grinned. He was  one  of  those men who grinned even when they were annoyed, but right now he grinned  because  he was proud. A little sore still, perhaps, but still proud.

     'Amazing  bathroom, ain't  it?' he said. 'They  had  it  walled up, you know. Damn silly thing  to  do. I mean,  perhaps there were  a few  teething troubles,' he  shifted gingerly,  'but  that's only to be expected. It's got everything, d'you see? Foot baths in the shape of clam shells, look. A whole wardrobe  for dressing gowns.  And  that tub over there's  got  a big blower thingy so's you get  bubbly  water without even havin'  to eat starchy food. And  this  thingy here with the mermaids  holdin'  it up's a special pot for your toenail clippings. It's got everything, this place.'

     'A special pot for nail clippings?' said the Verruca Gnome.

     'Oh, can't be too careful,' said Ridcully, lifting the lid of an ornate jar marked BATH  SALTS  and  pulling  out a  bottle of  wine. 'Get  hold  of something  like someone's  nail  clipping and  you've  got 'em  under your control. That's real old magic. Dawn of time stuff.'

     He held the wine bottle up to the light.

     'Should  be  cooled  nicely  by  now,' he  said, extracting  the  cork. 'Verrucas, eh?'

     'Wish I knew why,' said the gnome.

     'You mean you don't know?'

     'Nope. Suddenly I wake up and I'm the Verruca Gnome.'