Going Postal Page #11

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biography of Lord Vetinari.

(APPLAUSE)

You think yourself so clever,

lt'll buy you a few hours at best.

Our message

will still be there by dawn,

while your lumbering coach

will get bogged down

in some godforsaken marsh.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

(CROWD CHEER)

Ready when you are, my lord.

(BLOWS HORN)

(CHEERlNG / APPLAUSE)

Get clacksing!

(BANGS TABLE)

Come on, move it!

lf we win this race...

(BANGS TABLE)

..you can have a half-day holiday!

Come on!

Get on with it.

You took a while.

l had to stop a couple of times,

all that bumping and jolting,

my bladder's not what it used to be.

lf we don't get this sail rigged

before they start sending,

we're done for.

Yeah, alright.

OK!

Ready?

Hoist it up, lads.

Quick as you can.

Alright!

Come on,

let's get a wriggle on here!

(GROANS)

Where are ya?

Here, look, stick your boot

in there, will you?

Still here, Mr Groat?

l'm not built for parcel post, sir.

Now, you know what to do?

Ride like the clappers, sir.

Good man, stop for nothing.

The mail must get through!

No gloom of night.

Hey, Mr Lipwig.

Exactly, Stanley, no gloom of night.

C-C-Can l say, sir, even if we

lose and the Post Office collapses,

and all this was in vain -

And you get hanged.

Yes, sir, even dead,

you are still the best

Postmaster we have ever had.

(SNlFFS)

That's very touching, Mr Groat.

But l'm not dead yet.

Good luck, boys.

Why aren't we sending?!

l want to see those lights flashing!

Where's Mr Pony?

Get me Pony!

That's what l love

about the Dearhearts.

Perfect alignment.

Any message coming out of there

comes straight through us.

Time to create some interference.

OK, 14!

Number 1 4!

14's good.

Number 1 5?

OK, there is a snag on 1 5!

lt's stuck! lt's stuck!

Where's the hammer?

l put it back in the toolbox.

lt's not here!

lt's in there!

ln the spanner drawer!

Yeah, it's still the toolbox!

And who would look for a hammer

in the spanner drawer?

Boys!

We haven't got time for this!

A place for everything

and everything in its place!

lf you say that one more time, l'll

find another place for the hammer!

Oh, for God's sake, look!

They're sending!

Let's go, come on!

Grand Trunk are sending the message.

Hurry up!

Pull it up!

(STRUGGLES)

Come on boys, pull!

lt's stuck!

Pull it! Keep pulling!

lt's stuck on something!

lf you want something done

properly...

(SCREAMS)

Oh no, up we go!

Strange. The signal's stopped.

No, it can't have,

this is top priority.

Send! Send!

For God's sake, start sending!

lt's OK. They're sending again.

Yes! Yes! They've taken the bait!

(LAUGHS)

They're passing it on!

(BOTH LAUGH)

Adora!

l'm coming for you!

(SCREAMS)

(THEY LAUGH)

What kept you?

Adora...

l don't suppose...

...now would be a good time

to ask you something?

Well, l can hardly walk away.

Will you marry me?

You are forgetting...

..we still have a race to win.

That's not exactly a rejection.

Not exactly.

Hang on!

Down you get, Mr Lipwig.

You're under arrest.

What for now?

Same as last time. Doing a runner.

But- but l've come back.

Let's keep it that way.

Lord Vetinari's orders.

Listen.

(GROWLS)

(CHATTER)

(CHEERlNG / APPLAUSE)

Nice you have you with us again,

sir. Same last words as before?

l'm rather hoping there'll be

a different outcome this time.

Keep your hands off.

Let's see some magic, please.

lt'll come in a moment.

Please don't touch it.

There we are.

We need to read the ticker-tape,

Archchancellor.

Nobody said anything about

a close-up.

Can't you just move it in?

Just move it in? This is a highly

sophisticated magical apparatus.

There we are.

l think we have a winner, my lord.

Mm-hmm.

Uberwald receiving station,

message as follows.

"Havelock Vetinari was born into

a wealthy and influential family."

There we have it, my lord.

The message has arrived, delivered

on time by clacks technology.

The clacks has won.

Never mind, sir. lt could be worse.

How, exactly?

Well, we've got a good crowd,

lots of press.

They'd even promised me

a review in "What Gallows?".

Pull the lever, Mr Trooper.

No, wait.

The message hasn't finished yet.

They're playing for time!

My Lord, it's clear the race

is over. l demand my prize.

My last words!

l haven't had my last words.

lf he must.

(APPLAUSE)

Strange as it may seem,

as l stand here on

the verge of oblivion

l have a great sense of relief.

l no longer fear the worst because,

frankly, the worst has happened.

And although l may not have always

been a model citizen,

finally l've been made

to see the error of my ways.

Not by the heavy hand of the law,

but by the gentle touch of...

..well.

By the gentlest touch of all.

Very nice, sir. Stand by.

No, there's more.

(DRUMKNOTT) Where's it gone?

lt's not coming back.

Give it a moment.

Don't breathe on it.

The man who has never known love

has never really lived.

Get on with it.

But worst is the man

who avoids love.

Too true. Well said, sir. Now...

Because the man who runs from love

and all its trials and tribulations,

that man is just conning himself,

swindling himself out of true...

Ah. There we are.

..happiness.

Sorry to interrupt, my lord.

l wish someone would.

l'm not quite sure what this means

but l think you ought to hear it.

Message continues.

"We are the voice of the dead."

"The ghosts of those

who met a bloody end."

That's enough. The race is finished.

"Postmaster Mutable pushed

from the fifth floor."

"Postmaster Sideburn,

his neck broken."

Pack it all away!

Touch nothing.

"John Dearheart,

flung to his death from a tower."

"And Crispin Horsefry,

clubbed to death by Reacher Gilt."

Turn it off!

"Here follow the facts and figures

proving fraud,

embezzlement and murder."

"The full record of the clandestine

dealings of Reacher Gilt."

My Lord, they're lying. Lying.

Who are they, exactly?

They're only reading

what has been delivered by you.

The message has originated

from your own company

which makes it a confession.

l confess nothing!

(CROWD GASPS)

Lipwig!

Your safety is my concern,

Mr Lipwig.

Your safety is my concern.

Arrest Reacher Gilt.

He appears to have vanished,

my lord.

Find him.

An ingenious plan, Mr Lipwig.

And most effective.

Which is why l have agreed to your

request to hand over ownership

of the clacks back

to the Dearheart family.

Just sign here.

And here.

No need to thank me.

However, as the two of you now run

all communications

in and out of this city,

should l find that my long-range

game of thud is interrupted

l shall come looking

for one of you to blame.

l wonder which one it will be.

(SNORTS)

By the way, you look great.

Colour really suits you.

Thank you.

ls that as sore as it looks?

Oh, it's not the first time

l've been hanged.

A bad habit to get into.

l'll tell you what, l'll give up

hanging if you give up smoking.

Too late.

l already quit.

You did that for me?

Why on earth would you think that?

Adora...

..those things l said on the gallows

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