33 Going Postal by Pratchett Terry

Author:Pratchett, Terry [Terry, Pratchett,]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-04-10T22:08:33.614000+00:00

Take his saddle off, Mr Hobson, said Moist firmly. This bags quite heavy, so lets lose the saddle.

Hobsons smile remained, but the rest of his face tried to sidle away from it. Had all the kids you want, have yer? he said.

Just give me a blanket and a bellyband, Mr Hobson.

Now Hobsons smile vanished completely. This was going to look too much like murder. You might want to think again, sir, he said. Boris took a couple of fingers off a man last year. Hes a trampler, too, and a snaffler and a scraper and hell horlock if he can get away with it. Hes got demons in him, and thats a fact.

Will he run?

Not so much run as bolt, sir. Born evil, that one, said Hobson. You need a crowbar to get him round corners, too. Look, sir, fair play to yer for a game un, but Ive got plenty of other

Hobson flinched as Moist gave him a special grin. You chose him, Mr Hobson. Ill ride him. Id be grateful if you could get your gentlemen to point him up Broadway for me while I go and conclude a few items of business.

Moist went into the building, ran up the stairs to his office, shut the door, crammed his handkerchief in his mouth and whimpered gently for a few seconds, until he felt better. Hed ridden bareback a few times, when things had been really hot, but Boris had the eyes of a crazy thing.

But back off now and hed be . . . just a fool in a shiny suit. You had to give them a show, an image, something to remember. All he had to do was stay on until he left the city and then find a suitable bush to jump off into. Yes, thatd do. And then stagger into Sto Lat hours later, still with the mail, having valiantly fought off bandits. Hed be believed, because it would feel right . . . because people wanted to believe things, because itd make a good tale, because if you made it

glitter sufficiently glass could appear more like a diamond than a diamond did.

There was a cheer when he strode out on to the steps again. The sun, on cue, decided to appear from the mists, and sparkled off his wings.

Boris was looking apparently docile now, chewing his bit. This didnt fool Moist; if a horse like Boris was quiet it was because he was planning something.

Mr Pump, I shall need you to give me a leg up, he said, slinging the post bag round his neck.

Yes, Mr Lipvig, said the golem.

Mr Lipwig!

Moist turned round to see Sacharissa Cripslock hurrying up the street, notebook in hand.

Always a pleasure to see you, Sacharissa, said Moist, but I am a little busy right now

You are aware that the Grand Trunk is shut again? she said.

Yes, it was in the paper. Now I must

So you are challenging the clacks company? The pencil hung poised over her notebook.

Simply delivering the mail, Miss Cripslock, just like I said Id do, said Moist in firm, manly tones.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.