or two things, sort of like, you know, a gratuity, and then cal ed the shopkeeper out and
got him to lock up, that counts as “good”, does it?’
Good and bad were, to Nobby’s way of thinking, entirely relative terms. Most of his
relatives, for example, were criminals. But, again, this invitation to philosophical debate
was ambushed somewhere in his head by sheer dread of the big beard in the sky.
‘ ‘s,’ he squeaked.
NOW, I WONDER WHAT YOU WOULD LIKE?
Nobby gave up, and sat mute. Whatever was going to happen next was going to
happen, and there was not a thing he could do about it . . . Right now, the light at the
end of his mental tunnel showed only more tunnel.
AH, YES …
The Hogfather reached into his sack and pul ed out an awkwardly shaped present
wrapped in festive Hogswatch paper which, owing to some slight confusion on the
current Hogfather’s part, had merry ravens on it. Corporal Nobbs took it in nervous
hands.
WHAT DO YOU SAY?
‘ nk you.’
OFF YOU GO.
Corporal Nobbs slid down grateful y and barged his way through the crowds,
stopping only when he was fielded by Constable Visit.
‘What happened? What happened? I couldn’t see!’
‘I dunno,’ mumbled Nobby. ‘He gave me this.’
‘What is it.’
‘I dunno . .
He clawed at the raven-bedecked paper.
‘This is disgusting, this whole business,’ said Constable Visit. ‘It’s the worship of
idols–‘
‘ It’s a genuine Burleigh and Stronginthearm doubleaction triple-cantilever crossbow
with a polished walnut stock and engraved silver facings!’
‘–a crass commercialization of a date which is purely of astronomical significance,’
said Visit, who seldom paid attention when he was in mid-denounce. ‘If it is to be
celebrated at al , then–‘
‘ I saw this in Bows and Ammo! It got Editor’s Choice in the ‘What to Buy When Rich
Uncle Sidney Dies” category! They had to break both the reviewer’s arms to get him to
let go of it!’
‘—ought to be commemorated in a smal service of—‘
‘ It must cost more’n a year’s salary! They only make ’em to order! You have to wait
ages!’
‘-religious significance.’ It dawned on Constable Visit that something behind him was
amiss.
‘Aren’t we going to arrest this impostor, corporal?’ he said.
Corporal Nobbs looked blearily at him through the mists of possessive pride.
‘You’re foreign, Washpot,’ he said. ‘I can’t
expect you to know the real meaning of Hogswatch.’
The oh god blinked.
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘That’s better. Oh, yes. That’s a lot better. Thank you.’
The wizards, who shared the raven’s belief in the essential narrative conventions of
life, watched him cautiously.
‘Any minute now,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes confidently, ‘it’l probably start
with some kind of amusing yel —‘
‘You know,’ said the oh god, ‘I think I could just possibly eat a soft-boiled egg.’
‘—or maybe the cars spinning round—‘
‘And perhaps drink a glass of milk’ said the oh god.
Ridcul y looked nonplussed.
‘You real y feel better?’ he said.
‘Oh, yes,’ said the oh god. ‘I real y think I could risk a smile without the top of my
head fal ing off.’
‘No, no, no,’ said the Dean. ‘This can’t be right. Everyone knows that a good
hangover cure has got to involve a lot of humorous shouting, ekcetra.’
‘I could possibly tel you a joke,’ said the oh god careful y.
‘You don’t have this pressing urge to run outside and stick your head in a water butt?’
said Ridcul y.
‘Er . . . not real y,’ said the oh god. ‘But I’d like some toast, if that helps.’
The Dean took off his hat and pul ed a thaumameter out of the point. ‘ Something
happened,’ he said. ‘There was a massive thaumic surge.’
‘Didn’t it even taste a bit … wel , spicy?’ said Ridcul y.
‘It didn’t taste of anything, real y,’ said the oh god.
‘Oh, look, it’s obvious,’ said Susan. ‘When the God of Wine drinks, Bilious here gets
the aftereffects, so when the God of Hangovers drinks a hangover cure then the
effects must jump back across the same link.’
‘That could be right,’ said the Dean. ‘He is, after al , basical y a conduit.’
‘I’ve always thought of myself as more of a tube,’ said the oh god.
‘No, no, she’s right,’ said Ridcul y. ‘When he drinks, this lad here gets the nasty
result. So, logical y, when our friend here takes a hangover cure the side effects should
head back the same way–‘
‘Someone mentioned a crystal bal just now,’ said the oh god in a voice suddenly
clanging with vengeance. ‘I want to see this–‘
It was a big drink. A very big and a very long drink. It was one of those special
cocktails where each very sticky, very strong ingredient is poured in very slowly, so
that they layer on top of one
another. Drinks like this tend to get cal ed Traffic Lights or Rainbow’s Revenge or, in
places where truth is more highly valued, Hel o and Goodbye, Mr Brain Cel .
In addition, this drink had some lettuce floating in it. And a slice of lemon and a piece
of pineapple hooked coquettishly on the side of the glass, which had sugar frosted
round the rim. There were two paper umbrel as, one pink and one blue, and they each
had a cherry on the end.
And someone had taken the trouble to freeze ice cubes in the shape of little
elephants. After that, there’s no hope. You might as wel be drinking in a place cal ed
the Cococobana.
The God of Wine picked it up lovingly. It was his kind of drink.
There was a rumba going on in the background. There were also a couple of young
ladies snuggling up to him. It was going to be a good night. It was always a good night.
‘Happy Hogswatch, everyone!’ he said, and raised the glass.
And then: ‘Can anyone hear something?’
Someone blew a paper squeaker at him.
‘No, seriously … like a sort of descending note
Since no one paid this any attention he shrugged, and nudged one of his fel ow
drinkers.
‘How about we have a couple more and go to this club I know?’ he said.
And then
The wizards leaned back, and one or two of them grimaced.
Only the oh god stayed glued to the glass, face contorted in a vicious smile.
‘We have eructation!’ he shouted, and punched the air. ‘Yes! Yes! Yes! The worm is
on the other boot now, eh? Hah! How do you like them apples, huh?’
‘Wel , mainly apples–‘ said the Dean.
‘Looked like a lot of other things to me,’ said Ridcul y. ‘It seems we have reversed the
cause-effect flow . . .’
‘Wil it be permanent?’ said the oh god hopeful y.
‘I shouldn’t think so. After al , you are the God of Hangovers. It’l probably just reverse itself again when the potion wears off.’
‘Then I may not have much time. Bring me … let’s see … twenty pints of lager, some
pepper vodka and a bottle of coffee liqueur! With an umbrel a in it! Let’s see how he
enjoys that, Mr You’ve Cot Room For Another One In There!’
Susan grabbed his hand and pul ed him over to a bench.
‘I didn’t have you sobered up just so you could go on a binge!’ she said.
He blinked at her. ‘You didn’t?’
‘I want you to help me!’
‘Help you what?’
‘You said you’d never been human before, didn’t you?’
‘Er . . .’ The oh god looked down at himself. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘Never.’
‘You’ve never incarnated?’ said Ridcul y.
‘Surely that’s a rather personal question, isn’t it?’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies.
‘That’s … right,’ said the oh god. ‘Odd, that. I remember always having headaches …
but never having a head. That can’t be right, can it?’
‘You existed in potentia?’ said Ridcul y.
‘Did P’
‘Did he?’ said Susan.
Ridcul y paused. ‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘I think I did it, didn’t I? I said something to young
Stibbons about drinking and hangovers, didn’t I … ?’
‘And you created him just like that?’ said the Dean. ‘I find that very hard to believe,
Mustrum. Hah! Out of thin air? I suppose we can al do that, can we? Anyone care to
think up some new pixie?’
‘Like the Hair Loss Fairy?’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. The other wizards
laughed.
‘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 Ridcul y evenly. ‘Anyway, you know
what they say about bald men, Dean.’
‘Yes, they say, “Look at him, he’s got no hair,”‘ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.