Going Postal Page #4

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With respect, my Lord,

we are answerable to our

shareholders, not to you.

Then perhaps your shareholders

will be interested to learn

that l am reopening the Post Office.

(COUGHS)

That lumbering, overstaffed monster

that collapsed under its own weight?

The people of Ankh-Morpork

deserve choice

and currently, the only choice they

have is between you and nothing.

And the problem is?

Don't let me detain you.

ls that an original bluestone slab?

l take my Thud very seriously.

(LAUGHS)

We should play a game sometime.

We already are, Mr Gilt.

We already are.

He really means business, this time,

Reacher. He really does.

Don't panic, to mean business

you need to have a business

to start with.

And...

What's that on your face?

lt's nothing. Just nerves.

lt's revolting.

Anyway, this fellow Lipwig

has half-wits for staff

and a four-year backlog of mail.

There will be no renaissance.

Especially once

l've enlightened him.

(LAUGHTER)

Enlightened him!

(LAUGHTER CONTlNUES)

What happened here?

Happen, sir?

Post offices should deliver mail,

not hoard it.

We-we just, er,

just got a bit behind, sir.

What was that?

Er, er, what, sir?

lt's probably just a pigeon, sir.

Mr Groat, l don't think

you're being honest with me.

Maybe l should just sack you all.

Er... (STRUGGLES FOR WORDS)

You could do that, sir, but then,

who would fill the inkwells, sir?

lnkwells?

Gotta keep the inkwells filled, sir.

Just like in the old days. Yes.

Ah, you should've seen it, sir.

Brass and copper everywhere,

counters of rare wood

and teams of postmen.

Teams, sir, all lined up

under the great clock.

Their uniforms all royal blue

with brass buttons.

Ah, this must be my apartment.

Now, all we've got is you, sir.

'You might understand,

by this point,

l was almost feeling nostalgic

for the gallows.'

'This wasn't a Post Office,

it was a lunatic asylum.'

'Somehow, l had to escape.'

Excellent work, Mr Pump.

That's it,

you just keep on shovelling.

Don't stop for anything, now.

l have your Karmic signature

on my internal tablet.

Fascinating.

Which means l know where you are

at all times.

So, if you were thinking

of escape...

Escape? Me?

No, no, no.

No, l was just off to er...

Erm... Um...

..deliver a letter.

lsn't that what postmasters do?

l will know

if this is not delivered.

Don't you trust me, Mr Pump?

l want to trust you, Mr Lipwig,

l really want to.

(SlGHS)

'Everyone has their levers.'

'With Pump, it was doing your duty.'

'With Groat, it was promotion.'

'But with Stanley...'

(LAUGHS)

Well, well. (LAUGHS)

(SHOP BELL)

Hello.

Hmm.

(Ow!)

ls, uh... (CLEARS THROAT)

ls this a good one?

lt's alright for the novice,

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