CARPE CERVISIA (Seize the Beer)
In the story so far in the story Tarzan has rescued Jane by swinging in on a vine and
now Jane is thanking him repeatedly (the only way she can...a...handshake) while Cheetah
watches from the shrubbery...No, no that's not right either, I mean honestly, that's just
silly.
Another XXXXing big bit of the story on this page, more to come, yes?
ALBERT, I THINK THIS SCUMBLE COMPETITION WILL SERVE AS A MUCH NEEDED DROP OF JOY IN MANY PEOPLE'S LIFE - UH, EXISTENCE. HOWEVER, THERE IS SOMETHING BOTHERING ME. ALBERT, DO YOU THINK THAT SINCE I AM, YOU KNOW, NOT, UM, ACTUALLY, UM, WELL, ALIVE AS SUCH....
"You wondering if the judges are anthropomorphic-personification-ist?"
WELL, AS THE ONE WHO ULTIMATELY TAKES THEM FROM ALL THEY HOLD DEAR, YES, I THINK THERE MAY BE SOME PREJUDICE.
"Well, how about you give your scumble to a human, who could enter it for you? And, you know, split the prize 50/50 or summin'?"
THAT IS SOMETHING TO CONSIDER. HOWEVER RIGHT NOW I AM NEEDED IN ANKH-MORPORK. PACK UP THE SCUMBLE. WE LEAVE NOW
* * *
"Us bastards?!? You bastards!"
"You don't think we're responsible for this, do you?"said BU's Archchancellor in a defensive tone. A little too defensive, thought UU's Dean. "I mean, we only just arrived from the other side of the DISC! Fair dinkum, mate, if anyone here did it, I'd say it'd be one of you blokes!"
"Are you accusing one of MY wizards of Foul Play??" In any other situation, Ridcully wouldn't put it past them. But here's a chance to teach these XXXXians for being forn.
"He sure is!" said Ridcully's Dean, attempting to appear offended. He also was never one to pass up the chance for a bit of a trans-continental dispute. "I'm gonna turn him into a frog's kidney!"
"Just try it" threatened Future Relics, in his usual admiringly courageous way.
So the Senior Wrangler hit him.
Or so he said.
Really, it doesn't matter who started it. It had begun.
Not too far away, the Patrician was staring out of his window in the way that you know he's doing more than just staring. The whole of Ankh Morpork is focussed on this scumble competition, he thought. This surely should not be the most important thing in these people's lives. I mean, a thief could get away with anything today.
"Well, we're not actually fieves eifer, are we?"
"No, so we're not assassins, and we're not thieves. But we did just assassinate
someone."
"Yeah, but we can't let the Assassins Guild know about dat can we? So don't go round
calling yourself an assass- ahh, bastard! Get off my foo- Oh, sorry Mr. Doe"
Yes, he had walked straight into Brother Doe.* Although you wouldn't be able to tell this if you didn't know him - it would appear to be more a pile of robes and hoods than anything. And one person was just wondering how something that appeared so soft could crush one's toes so hard.
"The deed is done?" The robes asked.
"Yes sir. We-"
"Fine. You boys have done a good deed for the brotherhood today. You are already on
the path to enlightenment. Like all others on this world, you must now learn to empty your
mind. You cannot hear the note if you aren't listening, correct?"
"Ah, yeah guv, sure, but-"
"And you can't be listening if you're doing something else, right?"
"Yeah, sure -"
"The brain should not be used to focus on something as unimportant as an amateur
alcoholic beverage production competition."
Caught unaware by the lack of a question mark, a moment was needed to regain composure,
then, "Yeah, right but we've gotta-"
"It is my duty as a Brother to show others the path to enlightenment, yes?"
"Well, I wouldn't know 'bout-"
"And we all must do our duty, yes? Like you boys have done. Your
reward can be found in the place we agreed."#
* * *
Commander Vimes was sure glad to be rid of that. The poor lad was mumbling something about being assaulted by an animate sack of pumpkin wearing leather gloves. But investigating a murder was at least something that you could be proud of. Although the combined efforts of the Assassins Guild and the Patrician tend to take the fun out of most cases.
"The University? A scumble judge, huh?" wheezed Colon. "Ahh well, plenty
more where that came from."
"What do you mean Sarge?" asked Nobby between, and unfortunately during, bites
of meat pie floater. "One thing 'bout this forn food, its the only way you get proper
cooked horse."
"Well they always have three judges in this contest, right? But ya only need two
judges to agree to pick a winner."
Picking a winner of his own, as he likes to do when out of the house, Vimes spoke for the first time in a while. "These judges. They're usually large chaps, constantly have a hungover yet happy aura about them?"**
"That's right. I always like to have a drink with those scumble society blokes.
Fine people."
"Then why do you think those two are behind the judge's bench?"
The three watchmen turned to look in the direction of the judge's bench.
Amongst all the activity, all the colourful decoration, colourful clothes and colourful language, sat two of the meanest looking buggars Vimes had ever seen.
"They're two of the meanest looking buggars I have ever seen." said Vimes.
Truthfully.
But credit where credit's due - the m.l.b.'s had made some attempt to appear cheerful. Basically by painting bright red circles on their cheeks and an extra inch of smile past their lips. Sad but effective. Well, not really effective, as they weren't smiling anyway. So mainly sad.
* * *
The whole population of the city was concentrating on scumble.## When concentrating on something, how much of your mind do you actually use? Where does the unused bit of your mind go? When trying to fit a thread thorough the head of a needle, what happens to the bit of your mind that knows about the history of long division?
We all know the mind can wander. But where does it wander to?
And when it comes back, what does it bring with it?
Brother Doe was trying to work out a why to explain this to the masses. The masses that will be converted to the Brotherhood of the Note. The Brotherhood forbid any kind of magic. But that's just silly, isn't it? If we want to keep up with the Century of the Fruitbat, we must use magic, right? Anyway, its not really magic. More a way of opening a door...
The civilians are busy. I have assured that the wizards and the Watch will be busy. Those coming from outside the city will be preoccupied with being disgusted at Ankh Morpork. But I have a feeling that I am forgetting a group of beings who may be interested in stopping us for some reason.
"What do you think, my lovely?" he said aloud.
In between the space of two air molecules, an octarine being, definitely as large as a troll, but definitely not the shape of a troll, could be seen. It could be seen growing. And if you knew what to look for, you could just see someone's knowledge of the history of long division come into view, then turn into a piece of its body. Then a few seconds later, the knowledge of the history of long division was trying to pull it back through into a place that was strangely familiar.
As familiar as your own mind even.
"But you're not ready to leave yet, are you dear?" Brother Doe pointed out. "But when you are, we will show the people of this city what you lose when you focus on the trivial and forget the eternal. Then they will see the way of the Brotherhood, yes? They will turn to us in their droves.And as I will have done my duty, I will surely be enlightened, then I will be with the Gods, yes?"
The only reply he got was a sound not unlike a fart squeezing through two air molecules.
* * *
SQUEAK squeaked^ the Death of Rats. But Gaspode and Greebo knew that he meant, "This is where Granny will come"
"I sure as heck hope so! I can't carry this book another inch!" puffed Gaspode before dropping to the ground, looking even more dead than usual.
SQUEAK said the DOR while reaching for the book. After several minutes, the other animals heard him say, "Why are people caring so much for this scumble? It is just food."
"Just food!?" squealed Gaspode. "There is nothing more important than food.
When you're hungry, which is most of the time I guess, you are totally focussed on getting food. I'm always thinking about food. But everyone's always thinking about something I guess." Greebo gave a look of agreement.
Gaspode continued, " Those enlightened monk boys must have a hard time convincing others to empty their minds."
A hush fell over the three. Three dark figures on broomsticks were descending from a midday sun.
"Millenium hand and shrimp," muttered someone unhappily nearby.
"Yeah, I'm with you Ron. Too much activity around here, huh?"
"Quack!"
* * *
Death stood over the dead judge.
DAMN. I HATE TRIPS WHERE YOU HAVE TO MIX BUSINESS AND PLEASURE.
*Or vice versa, if you want to get technical. But you can tell him
that. I'll just wait behind this locked door, shall I? Go back to the text.
# 4 inches up the Furankle family's swamp dragon's behind. Go see for
yourself. Go back to the text.
** It IS possible. Go back to the text.
## Well, except for those who don't drink. But they're not real people
anyway, are they? Go back to the text.
^ What else? Go back to the text.
Well another one person marathon chapter, I pity the person who has to follow this part of the story...Oh wait it's me, well...um...if, um anyone else, you know, wants to...do...a...Oh alright I'll do the next bit. It'll be along soon, promise...