Unseen Academicals - Terry Pratchett [166]
Thus far, it had been a rather boring afternoon for the Librarian after his one little moment in the sun. It really was rather dull between the goal posts and he was getting hungry and so was pleasantly surprised by the appearance of a large banana in front of the goal. It was later agreed that, in a footballing context, mysteriously appearing fruit should have been greeted with a certain amount of caution. But he was hungry, it was a banana and the metaphysics were sound. He ate it.
Glenda, up in the stand, wondered if she was the only one to have seen the startlingly yellow fruit in its trajectory and then saw, looking up at her from the crowd, with a big grin on her face, Mrs Atkinson, mother of Tosher, himself something of an unguided weapon. Anyone who had ever been in the Shove knew her as a perpetrator of all kinds of inventive assaults. She had always got away with it because no one in the Shove would hit an old lady, especially one standing next to Tosher.
‘Excuse me,’ said Glenda, standing up. ‘I’ve got to get down there right now.’
‘Not a chance, love,’ said Pepe. ‘It’s shoulder-to-shoulder. A Shove and a half.’
‘Look after Juliet,’ said Glenda. She leaned forward and tapped on the shoulder of the nearest man. ‘I’ve got to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. Mind if I jump?’
He looked past her at the glittering figure of Juliet and said, ‘Not at all, if you get your girlfriend to give me a big kiss.’
‘No, but I’ll give you one.’
‘Er, don’t trouble yourself, miss, but come on then, give me your hand.’
It was a reasonably fast descent, as she was passed from hand to hand, accompanied by ribaldry, much genial horseplay and a definite feeling of satisfaction on Glenda’s part that she was wearing her biggest and most impenetrable pants.*
Elbowing and kicking people out of the way, she reached the goal just as the banana was consumed in one gulp and stood panting helplessly in front of the Librarian. He gave her a wide smile, looked thoughtful for a moment and went over backwards.
High up in the stand, Lady Margolotta turned to Vetinari. ‘Is that part of the game?’
‘I fear not,’ he said.
Ladyship yawned. ‘Well, it relieves the boredom, at least. They’ve spent far more time arguing than playing.’
Vetinari smiled. ‘Yes, madam. It does look as if football is very much like diplomacy: short periods of fighting followed by long periods of negotiation.’
Glenda prodded the Librarian. ‘Hello? Are you all right?’ All she could hear was a gurgling. She cupped her hands, ‘Man—er, someone down, here!’
To another chorus of boos, and, because this was Ankh-Morpork, cheers, the travelling committee, which was what the game had now become, hastened over to the Unseen Academicals’ goal.
‘Someone threw a banana and I saw who did it and I think it’s poisoned,’ said Glenda, all in one breath.
‘He’s breathing very heavily,’ said Ridcully. The comment was unnecessary as the snores were making the goal rattle.
He crouched down and put his ear to the Librarian’s chest. ‘I don’t think he’s been poisoned,’ he said.
‘Why’s that, Archchancellor?’ said Ponder.
‘Because if anyone has poisoned our Librarian,’ said Ridcully, ‘then, although I am not, by nature, a vindictive man, I will see to it that this university hunts down the poisoner by every thaumic, mystic and occult means available and makes the rest of their life not only as horrible as they can imagine it, but as horrible as I can imagine it. And you can depend on it, gentlemen, that I have already started work on it.’
Ponder looked around until he saw Rincewind. ‘Professor Rincewind. You were, I mean you are, his friend, can’t you stick your fingers down his throat or something?’
‘Well, no,’ said Rincewind. ‘I am very attached to my fingers and I like to think of them as attached to me.’
The noise of the crowd was getting louder. They were here to see football, not a debate.
‘But Doctor Lawn is still here,’ Rincewind volunteered. ‘He makes a living out of sticking his hand in things.