said, “Fun and games, I take it, is a medical term meaning ‘You nearly died’?”
He said, “Well you reacted rather badly to the dye which is used to illuminate the heart, but we hit you up with —— [something I can’t remember, but it sounded like nitroglycerine] and everything was … fine.” Apparently some part of my brain shuts my arteries down when I’m stressed. How my bloodline managed to survive five million years of evolution with this amazing trait, we shall never know, but they changed the medication as a result and I feel, well, fine.
Then the surgeon said: “What we don’t understand is why you kept on shouting about sandwiches. You kept trying to sit up on the operating table, which is, as I believe I have told you several times, not the slab, saying ‘There he is—with sandwiches!’ ”
And I said, “Yes, I remember that, there was a man—and he hadsandwiches! He had a sort of tray and he was standing in the corner!” And the doctor said, “What kind were they?” And I said, “I don’t know! You wouldn’t let me get near! And sometimes there was this big nose looming in front of me and something like the voice of God saying THERE ARE NOOOOOO SANDWICHES …”
He said, “Yes, that was probably me.”
So that’s it, brothers and sisters. I’d have loved to find out if they were going to be cucumber with the crusts cut off. That means you’re going to go to hell. In England, if they are Branston Pickle and cheese that means you are on the way to heaven. But, alas, it was only a near sandwich experience and I survived. But it is nice to know that wherever you are going to go, you are going to get something to eat on the way.
However, when this happens to a man, he starts to think, and asks the questions that have been bugging him for some time, like “What’s it all about then, when you get right down to it?” and “Is it really too late to get a Porsche?”
But mostly, “What’s it all about then really when you get down to it?” And you know, I just don’t know. But I’m pretty sure that you should not head towards the sandwiches.
Two weeks ago we had a Discworld convention in the U.K. A major one is held every two years. Lots of Americans came to it this time. You can tell the Americans, they were the ones that spent a lot of time in the bar singing songs like “Roll Me Over in the Clover.” They had been let out of California, where you are not even allowed to think songs like that.
And it was great and it was very international and they capped the numbers at 750 which is big for a con in the U.K. On Sunday night, I looked down at this hall and people were having fun and there were lots of people in costume and they were kind of continuously creating Discworld … and I looked upon it and saw that it was pretty good.
As a kind of experiment, a guild system had been set up, andguilds had to vie with one another to get points for their guild. And as I was telling the kids earlier, you’re sitting there and a sweet little munchkin who is now working for the Assassins’ Guild comes up and goes, “Stabbity, stabbity, stab. That will be two dollars.”
“No,” I say, “that’s not how assassination works. You do not charge the corpse.” So she thinks about it and says, “My friend Keith,” (another small munchkin salutes) “he’s from the Guild of Alchemists and will bring you alive again for three dollars.” So with rigor mortis setting in, I stuck my hand in my pocket and gave them some of the fake convention money and then she smiled sweetly and said, “And for five dollars, I won’t kill you again.”
It was amazing to see how this Ankh-Morpork system evolved during the con. Within a few hours of it starting, the head of the Merchants’ Guild embezzled his guild’s money to purchase the assassination of the head of the Assassins’ Guild so he could take it over, and on the second day, the forged money started to appear. It was
He said, “Well you reacted rather badly to the dye which is used to illuminate the heart, but we hit you up with —— [something I can’t remember, but it sounded like nitroglycerine] and everything was … fine.” Apparently some part of my brain shuts my arteries down when I’m stressed. How my bloodline managed to survive five million years of evolution with this amazing trait, we shall never know, but they changed the medication as a result and I feel, well, fine.
Then the surgeon said: “What we don’t understand is why you kept on shouting about sandwiches. You kept trying to sit up on the operating table, which is, as I believe I have told you several times, not the slab, saying ‘There he is—with sandwiches!’ ”
And I said, “Yes, I remember that, there was a man—and he hadsandwiches! He had a sort of tray and he was standing in the corner!” And the doctor said, “What kind were they?” And I said, “I don’t know! You wouldn’t let me get near! And sometimes there was this big nose looming in front of me and something like the voice of God saying THERE ARE NOOOOOO SANDWICHES …”
He said, “Yes, that was probably me.”
So that’s it, brothers and sisters. I’d have loved to find out if they were going to be cucumber with the crusts cut off. That means you’re going to go to hell. In England, if they are Branston Pickle and cheese that means you are on the way to heaven. But, alas, it was only a near sandwich experience and I survived. But it is nice to know that wherever you are going to go, you are going to get something to eat on the way.
However, when this happens to a man, he starts to think, and asks the questions that have been bugging him for some time, like “What’s it all about then, when you get right down to it?” and “Is it really too late to get a Porsche?”
But mostly, “What’s it all about then really when you get down to it?” And you know, I just don’t know. But I’m pretty sure that you should not head towards the sandwiches.
Two weeks ago we had a Discworld convention in the U.K. A major one is held every two years. Lots of Americans came to it this time. You can tell the Americans, they were the ones that spent a lot of time in the bar singing songs like “Roll Me Over in the Clover.” They had been let out of California, where you are not even allowed to think songs like that.
And it was great and it was very international and they capped the numbers at 750 which is big for a con in the U.K. On Sunday night, I looked down at this hall and people were having fun and there were lots of people in costume and they were kind of continuously creating Discworld … and I looked upon it and saw that it was pretty good.
As a kind of experiment, a guild system had been set up, andguilds had to vie with one another to get points for their guild. And as I was telling the kids earlier, you’re sitting there and a sweet little munchkin who is now working for the Assassins’ Guild comes up and goes, “Stabbity, stabbity, stab. That will be two dollars.”
“No,” I say, “that’s not how assassination works. You do not charge the corpse.” So she thinks about it and says, “My friend Keith,” (another small munchkin salutes) “he’s from the Guild of Alchemists and will bring you alive again for three dollars.” So with rigor mortis setting in, I stuck my hand in my pocket and gave them some of the fake convention money and then she smiled sweetly and said, “And for five dollars, I won’t kill you again.”
It was amazing to see how this Ankh-Morpork system evolved during the con. Within a few hours of it starting, the head of the Merchants’ Guild embezzled his guild’s money to purchase the assassination of the head of the Assassins’ Guild so he could take it over, and on the second day, the forged money started to appear. It was
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