Hogfather

     'Yes, thank you,  a green  one  with  cinnamon if  it's  not  too  much trouble.'

     'Can't  see how  he  can talk to a machine,' said Ridcully, in a sullen voice. 'The thing's got no damn ears.'

     'Ah, well, in fact we made it one ear,' said Ponder. 'Er...'

     He pointed to a large drum in a maze of tubes.

     'Isn't  that old Windle Poons' ear  trumpet sticking  out  of the end?' said Ridcully suspiciously.

     'Yes,  Archchancellor.' Ponder  cleared his throat.  'Sound,  you  see, comes in waves ...'

     He stopped.  Wizardly  premonitions  rose in his  mind.  He  just  knew Ridcully was going  to assume he was  talking about the sea. There was going to be  one  of those huge bottomless misunderstandings that  always occurred whenever anyone  tried to explain anything to the Archchancellor. Words like 'surf, and probably 'ice cream' and 'sand' were just ...

     'It's all done by magic, Archchancellor,' he said, giving up.

     'Ah. Right,' said Ridcully. He sounded a little disappointed. 'None  of that  complicated  business with springs and  cogwheels and tubes and stuff, then.'

     'That's right, sir,' said  Ponder. 'Just  magic.  Sufficiently advanced magic.'

     'Fair enough. What's it do?'

     'Hex can hear what you say.'

     'Interesting. Saves  all  that  punching  holes  in bits  of  cards and hitting keys you lads are forever doing, then ...'

     'Watch this, sir,' said Ponder. 'All right, Adrian, initialize the GBU

     'How do you do that, then?' said Ridcully, behind him.

     'It ... it means pull the great big lever,' Ponder said, reluctantly.

     'Ah. Takes less time to say.'

     Ponder sighed. 'Yes, that's right, Archchancellor.'

     He nodded to one of the students, who pulled  a large  red lever marked 'Do Not Pull'. Gears spun, somewhere inside Hex. Little trap-doors opened in the ant farms and millions of ants  began  to scurry  along the networks  of glass tubing. Ponder tapped at the huge wooden keyboard.

     'Beats me how you fellows remember how to do all this stuff,' said Ridcully, still watching  him with what Ponder considered to be amused interest.

     'Oh,  it's largely  intuitive, Archchancellor,' said Ponder. 'Obviously you  have  to spend a  lot of time  learning  it first,  though. Now,  then, Bursar,' he added. 'If you'd just like to say something...'

     'He says, SAY SOMETHING, BURSAAAR!' yelled Ridcully helpfully, into the Bursar's ear.

     'Corkscrew? It's a tickler, that's what Nanny says,' said the Bursar.

     Things  started to  spin  inside  Hex. At  the back of the room a  huge converted waterwheel covered with sheep skulls began to turn, ponderously.

     And the quill pen in its network of springs and guiding arms started to write:

     +++ Why Do You Think You Are A Tickler? +++

     For a moment the Bursar hesitated. Then he said, 'I've got  a spoon of my own, you know.'

     +++ Tell Me About Your Spoon +++

     'Er ... it's a little spoon. . .'

     +++ Does Your Spoon Worry You? +++

     The  Bursar  frowned.  Then he seemed to  rally. 'Whoops, here comes Mr Jelly,' he said, but he didn't sound as though his heart was in it.

     +++ How Long Have You Been Mr Jelly? +++

     The Bursar glared.'Are you making fun of me?' he said.

     'Amazin'!'  said Ridcully.  'It's got him stumped! 's better than dried frog pills! How did you work it out?'

     'Er said Ponder. 'It sort of just happened

     'Amazin',' said Ridcully. He knocked the ashes out of his pipe on Hex's 'Anthill  Inside' sticker, causing Ponder to wince. 'This thing's a  kind of big artificial brain, then?'

     'You could think  of it like that,' said Ponder, carefully. 'Of course, Hex doesn't actually think. Not as such. It just appears to be 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.' He paused, and  then  reached  into  his  pocket. 'I  knew  I'd  come here  for something,' he added. 'This here chappie is the Verruca Gnome-'

     'Hello,' said the Verruca Gnome shyly.

     -who seems to have popped  into existence  to be with us  here tonight. And,  you know, I thought:  this is  a bit  odd. Of  course, there's  always something a bit unreal  about Hogswatchnight,' said Ridcully. 'Last night of the year and so on. The Hogfather whizzin' around  and so forth. Time of the darkest  shadows and so on. All the  old year's  occult  rubbish pilin'  up. Anythin'  could happen. I just thought you fellows might check  up on  this. Probably nothing to worry about.'

     'A Verruca Gnome?' said Ponder.

     The gnome clutched his sack protectively.

     'Makes  about  as much sense  as  a lot  of  things, I  suppose,'  said Ridcully. 'After all,  there's a Tooth Fairy,  ain' there? You might as well wonder why we have a God of Wine and not a God of Hangovers---'

     He stopped.

     'Anyone else hear that noise just then?' he said.

     'Sorry, Archchancellor?'

     'Sort of glingleglingleglingle? Like little tinkly bells?'

     'Didn't hear anything like that, sir.'