‘I… I don’t real y know,’ said the Duck Man. ‘It’s… rather a blur, I’m afraid. Back in the
days when I… think I was someone else. But stil ,’ he said, patting Arnold’s head, ‘as
they say, “Better a meal of old boots where friendship is, than a stal ed ox and hatred
therewith.” Forward, please, Ron.
They positioned Foul Ole Ron in front of the back door and then knocked on it. When
a waiter opened it Foul Ole Ron grinned at him, exposing what remained of his teeth
and his famous halitosis, which was stil al there
‘Mil ennium hand and shrimp!’ he said, touching his forelock
‘ “Compliments of the season”,’ the Duck Man translated
The man went to shut the door but Arnold Sideways was ready for him and had
wedged his boot in the crack./1
‘We thought you might like us to come round at lunchtime and sing a merry
Hogswatch glee for your customers,’ said the Duck Man. Beside him, Coffin Henry
began one of his volcanic bouts of coughing, which even sounded green. ‘ No charge,
of course.
‘It being Hogswatch,’ said Arnold
The beggars, despite being too disreputable even to belong to the Beggars’ Guild,
lived quite wel by their own low standards. This was general y by careful application of
the Certainty Principle. People would give them al sorts of things if they were certain
to go away
A few minutes later they wandered off again, pushing a happy Arnold who was
surrounded by hastily wrapped packages
‘People can be so kind,’ said the Duck Man
‘Mil ennium hand and shrimp.
25 Arnold had no legs but, since there were many occasions when a boot was handy on the streets, Coffin Henry had affixed one to the end of a pole for him. He was deadly with it, and any muggers hardpressed enough to try to rob the beggars often found themselves kicked on the top of the head by a man three feet high.
Arnold started to investigate the charitable donations as they manoeuvred his trol ey through the slush and drifts
‘Tastes… sort of familiar,’ he said
‘Familiar like what?
‘Like mud and old boots.
‘Cam! That’s posh grub, that is.
‘Yeah, yeah… ‘ Arnold chewed for a while. ‘You don’t think we’ve become posh al of
a sudden?
‘Dunno. You posh, Ron?
‘Buggrit.
‘Yep. Sounds posh to me.
The snow began to settle gently on the River Ankh
‘Stil … Happy New Year, Arnold.
‘Happy New Year, Duck Man. And your duck.
‘What duck?’
‘Happy New Year, Henry.’
‘Happy New Year, Ron.’
‘Buggrem!’
‘And god bless us, every one,’ said Arnold Sideways
The curtain of snow hid them from view.
‘Which god?’
‘Dunno. What’ve you got?’
‘Duck Man?’
‘Yes, Henry?’
‘You know that stal ed ox you mentioned?’
‘Yes, Henry?’
‘How come it’d stal ed? Run out of grass, or something?’
‘Ah… it was more a figure of speech, Henry.’
‘Not an ox?
‘Not exactly. What I meant was-‘
And then there was only the snow.
After a while, it began to melt in the sun
THE END