Hogfather

‘That was a good word joke,’ he said, to break the silence.

The silence came back.

‘Most amusing,’ said Ridcully. He turned back and stared thoughtfully at the oh god.

‘Raw eggs are said to be good—’ he glared at the Dean ‘—I mean bad for a hangover,’ he said. ‘And fresh orange juice.’

‘Klatchian coffee,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes, firmly.

‘But this fellow hasn’t just got his hangover, he’s got everyone’s hangover,’ said Ridcully.

‘I’ve tried it,’ mumbled the oh god. ‘It just makes me feel suicidal and sick.’

‘A mixture of mustard and horseradish?’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. ‘In cream, for preference. With anchovies.’

‘Yoghurt,’ said the Bursar.

Ridcully looked at him, surprised.

‘That sounded almost relevant,’ he said. ‘Well done. I should leave it at that if I were you, Bursar. Hmm. Of course, my uncle always used to swear at Wow-Wow Sauce,’ he added.

‘You mean swear by, surely?’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.

‘Possibly both,’ said Ridcully. ‘I know he once drank a whole bottle of it as a hangover cure and it certainly seemed to cure him. He looked very peaceful when they came to lay him out.’

‘Willow bark,’ said the Bursar.^{46}

‘That’s a good idea,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. ‘It’s an analgesic.’

‘Really? Well, possibly, though it’s probably better to give it to him by mouth,’ said Ridcully. ‘I say, are you feeling yourself, Bursar? You seem somewhat coherent.’

The oh god opened his crusted eyes.

‘Will all that stuff help?’ he mumbled.

‘It’ll probably kill you,’ said Susan.

‘Oh. Good.’

‘We could add Englebert’s Enhancer,’ said the Dean. ‘Remember when Modo put some on his peas? We could only manage one each!’

‘Can’t you do something more, well, magical?’ said Susan. ‘Magic the alcohol out of him or something?’

‘Yes, but it’s not alcohol by this time, is it?’ said Ridcully. ‘It’ll have turned into a lot of nasty little poisons all dancin’ round on his liver.’

‘Spold’s Unstirring Divisor would do it,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. ‘Very simply, too. You’d end up with a large beaker full of all the nastiness. Not difficult at all, if you don’t mind the side effects.’

‘Tell me about the side effects,’ said Susan, who had met wizards before.

‘The main one is that the rest of him would end up in a somewhat larger beaker,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.

‘Alive?’

The Lecturer in Recent Runes screwed up his face and waggled his hands. ‘Broadly, yes,’ he said. ‘Living tissue, certainly. And definitely sober.’

‘I think we had in mind something that would leave him the same shape and still breathing,’ said Susan.

‘Well, you might’ve said …’

Then the Dean repeated the mantra that has had such a marked effect on the progress of knowledge throughout the ages.

‘Why don’t we just mix up absolutely everything and see what happens?’ he said.

And Ridcully responded with the traditional response.

‘It’s got to be worth a try,’ he said.

The big glass beaker for the cure had been placed on a pedestal in the middle of the floor. The wizards liked to make a ceremony of everything in any case, but felt instinctively that if they were going to cure the biggest hangover in the world it needed to be done with style.

Susan and Bilious watched as the ingredients were added. Round about halfway the mixture, which was an orange-brown colour, went gloop.

‘Not a lot of improvement, I feel,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.

Englebert’s Enhancer was the penultimate ingredient. The Dean dropped in a greenish ball of light that sank under the surface. The only apparent effect was that it caused purple bubbles to creep over the sides of the beaker and drip onto the floor.

‘That’s it?’ said the oh god.

‘I think the yoghurt probably wasn’t a good idea,’ said the Dean.

‘I’m not drinking that,’ said Bilious firmly, and then clutched at his head.

‘But gods are practically unkillable, aren’t they?’ said the Dean.

‘Oh, good,’ muttered Bilious. ‘Why not stick my legs in a meat grinder, then?’

‘Well, if you think it might help—’

‘I anticipated a certain amount of resistance from the patient,’ said the Archchancellor. He removed his hat and fished out a small crystal ball from a pocket in the lining. ‘Let’s see what the God of Wine is up to at the moment, shall we? Shouldn’t be too difficult to locate a fun-loving god like him on an evening like this …’

He blew on the glass and polished it. Then he brightened up.

‘Why, here he is, the little rascal! On Dunmanifestin, I do believe. Yes … yes … reclining on his couch, surrounded by naked maenads.’^{48}

‘What? Maniacs?’ said the Dean.

‘He means … excitable young women,’ said Susan. And it seemed to her that there was a general ripple of movement among the wizards, a sort of nonchalant drawing towards the glittering ball.

‘Can’t quite see what he’s doing …’ said Ridcully.

‘Let me see if I can make it out,’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies hopefully. Ridcully half turned to keep the ball out of his reach.