The oh G.o.d listened attentively. Susan was amazed. He didn't seem to disbelieve anything. She'd never been able to talk like this before, and said so.

"I think that's because I haven't got any preconceived ideas," said the oh G.o.d. "It comes of not having been conceived, probably."

"Well, that's how it is, anyway," said Susan. "Obviously I haven't inherited...physical characteristics. I suppose I just look at the world in a certain way."

"What way?"

"It...doesn't always present barriers. Like this, for example."

She closed her eyes. She felt better if she didn't see what she was doing. Part of her would keep on insisting it was impossible.

All she felt was a faintly cold, p.r.i.c.kling sensation.

"What did I just do?" she said, her eyes still shut.

"Er...you waved your hand through the table," said the oh G.o.d.

"You see?"

"Um...I a.s.sume that most humans can't do that?"

"No!"

"You don't have to shout. I'm not very experienced about humans, am I? Apart from around the point the sun shines through the gap in the curtains. And then they're mainly wishing that the ground would open up and swallow them. I mean the humans, not the curtains."

Susan leaned back in her chair-and knew that a tiny part of her brain was saying, yes, there is a chair here, it's a real thing, you can sit on it.

"There's other things," she said. "I can remember things. Things that haven't happened yet."

"Isn't that useful?"

"No! Because I never know what they-look, it's like looking at the future through a keyhole. You see bits of things but you never really know what they mean until you arrive where they are and see where the bit fits in."

"That could be a problem," said the oh G.o.d politely.

"Believe me. It's the waiting that's the worst part. You keep watching out for one of the bits to go past. I mean I don't usually remember anything useful useful about the future, just twisted little clues that don't make sense until it's too late. Are you about the future, just twisted little clues that don't make sense until it's too late. Are you sure sure you don't know why you turned up at the Hogfather's castle?" you don't know why you turned up at the Hogfather's castle?"

"No. I just remember being a...well, can you understand what I mean by a disembodied mind?"

"Oh, yes."

"Good. Now can you understand what I mean by a disembodied headache? And then, next moment, I was lying on a back I didn't used to have in a lot of cold white stuff I'd never seen before. But I suppose if you're going to pop into existence, you've got to do it somewhere somewhere."

"Somewhere where someone else, who should have existed, didn't," said Susan, half to herself.

"Pardon?"

"The Hogfather wasn't there," said Susan. "He shouldn't have been there anyway anyway, not tonight, but this time he wasn't there not because he was somewhere else but because he wasn't anywhere any more. Even his castle was vanishing."

"I expect I shall get the hang of this incarnation business as I go along," said the oh G.o.d.

"Most people-" Susan began. A shudder ran through her body. "Oh, no. What's he doing? WHAT'S HE DOING?"

A JOB WELL DONE JOB WELL DONE, I FANCY FANCY.

The sleigh thundered across the night. Frozen fields pa.s.sed underneath.

"Hmph," said Albert. He sniffed.

WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT WARM FEELING YOU GET INSIDE?.

"Heartburn!" Albert snapped.

DO I I DETECT A NOTE OF UNSEASONAL GRUMPINESS DETECT A NOTE OF UNSEASONAL GRUMPINESS? said Death. NO SUGAR PIGGYWIGGY FOR YOU YOU, ALBERT.

"I don't want any present, master." Albert sighed. "Except maybe to wake up and find it's all back to normal. Look, you know it always goes wrong when you start changing things..."

BUT THE H HOGFATHER CAN CAN CHANGE THINGS CHANGE THINGS. LITTLE MIRACLES ALL OVER THE PLACE, WITH MANY A MERRY HO, HO, HO. TEACHING PEOPLE THE REAL MEANING OF H HOGSWATCH, ALBERT.

"What, you mean that the pigs and cattle have all been slaughtered and with any luck everyone's got enough food for the winter?"

WELL, WHEN I I SAY THE SAY THE REAL REAL MEANING MEANING- "Some wretched devil's had his head chopped off in a wood somewhere 'cos he found a bean in his dinner and now the summer's going to come back?"

NOT EXACTLY THAT, BUT- "Oh, you mean that they've chased down some poor beast and shot arrows up into their apple trees and now the shadows are going to go away?"

THAT IS DEFINITELY A MEANING, BUT I- I- "Ah, then you're talking about the one where they light a b.l.o.o.d.y big bonfire to give the sun a hint and tell it to stop lurking under the horizon and do a proper day's work?"

Death paused, while the hogs hurtled over a range of hills.

YOU'RE NOT HELPING, ALBERT.

"Well, they're all the real meanings that I I know." know."

I THINK YOU COULD WORK WITH ME ON THIS THINK YOU COULD WORK WITH ME ON THIS.

"It's all about the sun, master. White snow and red blood and the sun. Always has been."

VERY WELL, THEN. THE H HOGFATHER CAN TEACH PEOPLE THE UNREAL UNREAL MEANING OF MEANING OF H HOGSWATCH.

Albert spat over the side of the sleigh. "Hah! 'Wouldn't It Be Nice If Everyone Was Nice,' eh?"

THERE ARE WORSE BATTLE CRIES.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear..."

EXCUSE ME...

Death reached into his robe and pulled out an hourgla.s.s.

TURN THE SLEIGH AROUND, ALBERT. DUTY CALLS.

"Which one?"

A MORE POSITIVE ATt.i.tUDE WOULD a.s.sIST AT THIS POINT, THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH MORE POSITIVE ATt.i.tUDE WOULD a.s.sIST AT THIS POINT, THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH.

"Fascinatin'. Anyone got another pencil?" said Ridcully.

"It's had four already," said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. "Right down to the stub, Archchancellor. And you know know we buy our own these days." we buy our own these days."

It was a sore point. Like most people with no grasp whatsoever of real economics, Mustrum Ridcully equated "proper financial control" with the counting of paper clips. Even senior wizards had to produce a pencil stub to him before they were allowed a new one out of the locked cupboard below his desk. Since of course hardly anyone retained a half-used pencil, the wizards had been reduced to sneaking out and buying new ones with their own money.

The reason for the dearth of short pencils was perched in front of them, whirring away as it chewed an HB down to the eraser on the end, which it spat at the Bursar.

Ponder Stibbons had been making notes.

"I think it works like this," he said. "What we're getting is the personification of forces, just like Hex said. But it only works if the thing is...well, logical." He swallowed. Ponder was a great believer in logic, in the face of all the local evidence, and he hated having to use the word in this way. "I don't mean it's logical logical that there's a creature that eats socks, but it...a...it makes a sort of sense...I mean it's a working hypothesis." that there's a creature that eats socks, but it...a...it makes a sort of sense...I mean it's a working hypothesis."

"Bit like the Hogfather," said Ridcully. "When you're a kiddie, he's as good an explanation as any, right?"

"What's not logical about there being a goblin that brings me huge bags of money?" said the Dean sulkily. Ridcully fed the Stealer of Pencils another pencil.

"Well, sir...firstly, you've never mysteriously received huge bags of money and needed to find a hypothesis to explain them, and secondly, no one else would think it at all likely."

"Huh!"

"Why's it happening now?" said Ridcully. "Look, it's hopped onto my finger! Anyone got another pencil?"

"Well, these...forces have always been here," said Ponder. "I mean, socks and pencils have always inexplicably gone missing, haven't they? But why they're suddenly getting personified like this...I'm afraid I don't know."

"Well, we'd better find out, hadn't we?" said Ridcully. "Can't have this sort of thing going on. Daft anti-G.o.ds and miscellaneous whatnots being created just because people've thought about 'em? We could have anything turn up, anyway. Supposing some idiot says there must be a G.o.d of indigestion, eh?"

Glingleglingleglingle.

"Er...I think someone just did, sir," said Ponder.

"What's the matter? What's the matter?" said the oh G.o.d. He took Susan by the shoulders.

They felt bony under his hands.

"d.a.m.n," said Susan. She pushed him away and steadied herself on the table, taking care that he didn't see her face.

Finally, with a measure of the self-control she'd taught herself over the last few years, she managed to get her own voice back.

"He's slipping out of character," she muttered, to the hall in general. "I can feel feel him doing it. And him doing it. And that that drags drags me me in. What's he doing it all in. What's he doing it all for for?"

"Search me," said the oh G.o.d, who'd backed away hurriedly. "Er...just then...before you turned your face away...it looked as though you were wearing very very dark eye shadow...only you weren't..." dark eye shadow...only you weren't..."

"Look, it's very simple," said Susan, spinning round. She could feel her hair restyling itself, which it always did when it was anxious. "You know how stuff runs in families? Blue eyes, buck teeth, that sort of thing? Well, Death runs in my my family." family."

"Er...in everybody's family, doesn't it?" said the oh G.o.d.

"Just shut up, please, don't gabble," said Susan. "I didn't mean death, I meant Death with a capital D. I remember things that haven't happened yet and I can TALK THAT TALK TALK THAT TALK and stalk that stalk and...if he gets sidetracked, then I'll have to do it. And he and stalk that stalk and...if he gets sidetracked, then I'll have to do it. And he does does get sidetracked. I don't know what's really happened to the real Hogfather or why Grandfather's doing his job, but I know a bit about how he thinks and he's got no...no mental shields like we have. He doesn't know how to forget things or ignore things. He takes everything liter ally and logically and doesn't understand why that doesn't always work-" get sidetracked. I don't know what's really happened to the real Hogfather or why Grandfather's doing his job, but I know a bit about how he thinks and he's got no...no mental shields like we have. He doesn't know how to forget things or ignore things. He takes everything liter ally and logically and doesn't understand why that doesn't always work-"

She saw his bemused expression.

"Look...how would you make sure everyone in the world was well fed?" she demanded.

"Me? Oh, well, I..." The oh G.o.d spluttered for a moment. "I suppose you'd have to think about the prevalent political systems, and the proper division and cultivation of arable land, and-"

"Yes, yes. But he'd he'd just give everyone a good meal," said Susan. just give everyone a good meal," said Susan.

"Oh, I see. Very impractical. Hah, it's as silly as saying you could clothe the naked by, well, giving them some clothes."

"Yes! I mean, no. Of course not! I mean, obviously obviously you'd give-oh, you you'd give-oh, you know know what I mean!" what I mean!"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"But he he wouldn't." wouldn't."

There was a crash beside them.

A burning wheel always rolls out of flaming wreckage. Two men carrying a large sheet of gla.s.s always cross the road in front of any comedy actor involved in a crazy car chase. Some narrative conventions are so strong that equivalents happen even on planets where the rocks boil at noon. And when a fully laden table collapses, one miraculously unbroken plate always rolls across the floor and spins to a halt.

Susan and the oh G.o.d watched it, and then turned their attention to the huge figure now lying in what remained of an enormous centerpiece made of fruit.

"He just...came right out of the air," whispered the oh G.o.d.

"Really? Don't just stand there. Give me a hand to help him up, will you?" said Susan, pulling at a large melon.

"Er, that's a bunch of grapes behind his ear-"

"Well?"

"I don't like even to think think about grapes-" about grapes-"

"Oh, come on on."