Hogfather

Some excerpts from this wonderful book, which will, probably, only make sense to those familiar with a fair share of the Discworld books, particularly the ones about gods or Death. It's nearly half past two in the morning, so I won't bother to explain. Sorry.

Lots of wit and wisdom in here. Plus a fair share of compassion and common sense. Not to be underestimated.

~

She'd become a governess. It was one of the few jobs a known lady could do. And she'd taken to it well. She'd sworn that if she did indeed ever find herself dancing on rooftops with chimney sweeps, she'd beat herself to death with her own umbrella.

After tea she read them a story. They liked her stories. The one in the book was pretty awful, but the Susan version was well recieved. She translated as she read.

'...and then Jack chopped down the beanstalk, adding murder and ecological vandalism to the theft, enticement and trespass charges already mentioned, but he got away with it and lived happily ever after without so much as a guilty twinge about what he had done. Which proves that you can be excused just about anything if you're a hero, because no one asks inconvenient questions.'

~

It was a strange, but demonstrable fact that the sacks of toys carried by the Hogfather, no matter what they really contained, always appeared to have sticking out of the top a teddy bear, a toy soldier in the kind of colourful uniform that would stand out in a disco, a drum and a red-and-white candy cane. The actual contents always turned out to be something a bit garish and costing $5.99. Death had investigated one or two. There had been a Real Agatean Ninja, for example, with Fearsome Death Grip, and a Captain Carrot One-Man Night Watch with a ccomplete wardrobe of toy weapons, each which cost as much as the original doll in the first place. Mind you, the stuff for girls was just as depressing. It seemed to be nearly all horses. Most of them were grinning. Horses, Death felt, shouldn't grin. Any horse that was grinning was planning something.

~

It was a big drink. A very big and 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 called Traffic Lights or Raibow's Revenge or, in places where truth is more highly valued, Hello and Goodbye Mr Brain Cell. 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 umbrellas, 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 well be drinking in a place called the Cococobana.

~

'Good heavens, man, you don't need to worry about that,' said the king heartily. 'It's Hogswatch! I was only just now looking out of the window and I saw you plodding through the snow and I said to young Jermain here, I said, "Who's that chappie?" and he said, "oh, he's some peasant fellow who lives up by the forest," and  I said, "Well I couldn't eat another thing and it's Hogswatch, after all," and so we just bundled everything up and here we are!
'And I expect you're pathetically thankful,' said the page. 'I expect we've brought a ray of light into your dark tunnel of a life, hmm?'
'--yes, well, o' course, only I'd been saving 'em for weeks, see, and there's some bakin' potatoes under the fire, I found 'em in the cellar 'n' the mice'd hardly touched 'em' The old man never raised his eyes from knee leve. ' 'n' our dad brought me up never to ask for--'
'Listen,' said the king, raising his voice a little, 'I've walked miles tonight and I bet you've never seen food like this in your whole life, eh?

'Tears of humiliated embarassment were rolling down the old man's face.
'--well, I'm sure it's very kind of you fine gentlemen but I ain't sure I know how to eat swans and suchlike, but if you want a bit o' my beans you've only got to say..'
'Let me make myself absolutely clear,' said the king sharply. 'This is some genuine Hogswatch charity, d'you understand? And we're going to sit here and watch the smile on your grubby but honest face, is that understood?'
'And what do you say to the good king?' the page prompted.
The peasant hung his head.
' 'nk you.'
'Right,' said the king, sitting back. 'Now, pick up your fork--'

The door burst open. And indistinct figure strode into the room, snow swirling around it in a cloud.
WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?
The page started to stand up, drawing the sword. He never worked out how the other figure could have got behind him, but there it was, pressing him gently down again.
'Hello, son, my name is Albert,' said a voice by his ear. 'Why don't you put that sword back very slowly? People might get hurt.'

A finger prodded the king, who had been too shocked to move.
WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, SIRE?
The king tried to focus the figure. There was an impression of red and white, but black, too. 
To Albert's secret amazement, the man managed to get to his feet and draw himself up as regally as he could.
'What's going on here, whoever you are, is some fine old Hogswatch charity! And who--'
NO IT'S NOT.
'What? How dare you--'
WERE YOU HERE LAST MONTH? WILL YOU BE HERE NEXT WEEK? NO. BUT TONIGHT YOU WANTED TO FEEL ALL WARM INSIDE. TONIGHT YOU WILL WANT THEM TO SAY: WHAT A GOOD KING HE IS.
'Oh no, he's going too far again--' muttered Albert under his breath. He pushed the page down again.
'No, you stay still, sonny. Else you'll just be a paragraph.'
'Whatever it is, it's more than he's got!' snapped the king. 'And all we've had from him is ingratitude--'
YES, THAT DOES SPOIL IT, DOESN'T IT? Death leaned forward. GO AWAY. 

~

BE HAPPY WITH WHAT YOU'VE GOT, IS THAT THE IDEA?
'That's about the size of it, master. A good god line, that. Don't give 'em too much and tell 'em to be happy with it. Jam tomorrow, see.'
THIS IS WRONG. Death hesitated. I MEAN... IT'S RIGHT TO BE HAPPY WITH WHAT YOU'VE GOT. BUT YOU'VE GOT TO HAVE SOMETHING TO BE HAPPY ABOUT HAVING. THERE'S NO POINT IN BEING HAPPY ABOUT HAVING NOTHING.
Albert felt a bit out of his depth in this new tide of social philosophy.
'Dunno,' he said. 'I suppose people'd say they've got the moon and the stars and suchlike.'
I'M SURE THEY WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO PRODUCE THE PAPERWORK.
'All I know is, if Dad'd caught us with a big bag of pricey toys we'd just have got a ding round the earhole for nicking 'em.
IT IS... UNFAIR.
'That's life, master.'
BUT I'M NOT.
'I meant this is how it's supposed to go, master.'
NO. YOU MEAN THIS IS HOW IT GOES.

(...)

IT IS HOGSWATCH, said Death, AND PEOPLE DIE ON THE STREETS. PEOPLE FEAST BEHIND LIGHTED WINDOWS AND OTHER PEOPLE HAVE NO HOMES. IS THIS FAIR?
'Well, of course, that's the big issue--' Albert began.
THE PEASANT HAD A HANDFUL OF BEANS AND THE KING HAD SO MUCH HE WOULD NOT EVEN NOTICE THAT WHICH HE GAVE AWAY. IS THIS FAIR?
'Yeah, but if you gave it all to the peasant then in a year or two he'd be just as snooty as the king--' began Albert, jaundiced observer of human nature.
NAUGHTY AND NICE? said Death. BUT IT'S EASY TO BE NICE IF YOU'RE RICH. IS THIS FAIR?
Albert wanted to argue. He wanted to say, Really? In that case, how come so many of the rich buggers is bastards? And being poor don't mean being naughty, neither. We was poor when I were a kid, but we was honest. Well, more stupid than honest, to tell the truth. But basically honest. 

He didn't argue, though. The master wasn't in any mood for it. He always did what needed to be done.
'You did say we just had to do this so's people'd believe--' he began, and then stopped and started again. 'When it comes to fair, master, you yourself--'
I AM EVEN-HANDED TO RICH AND POOR ALIKE, snapped Death. BUT THIS SHOULD NOT BE A SAD TIME. THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE SEASON TO BE JOLLY. He wrapped his red robe around him. AND OTHER THINGS ENDING IN OLLY, he added.