A Visit from the Hogfather
I recently wrote this short script for an audio-play version of a Terry Pratchett"s Death reading of A Visit From Saint Nicholas. Er... Hogfather. I want to get a group together and record it, but there just isn"t time before Christmas this year. So here"s the script at least for you all to enjoy. (With cameo"s from Susan, Albert, and The Death of Rats!) (Cross-posted from my Livejournal)
A Visit from the Hogfather: An audio play in one (short) act
Death
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE HOGSWATCH, WHEN ALL THROUGH MY HOME
NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING, NOT EVEN A GNOME...
ALBERT?
Death
WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THE GNOME?
Albert
Ah... Couldn't say sir.
Death
I MEAN, AM I NOT THE ANTHROPOMORPHIC PERSONIFICATION OF A NATURAL PROCESS?
Albert
Just as you say, master.
Death
AND DO I NOT LIVE IN A DIMENSION OF ULTIMATE DARKNESS, BROUGHT FORTH FROM MY OWN IMAGINATION?
Albert
It would be strange if you abided anywhere else, sir.
Death
THEN WHY WOULD THERE BE A DIMINUTIVE RELATIVE OF A PICTSEY PERFORMING COOKERY?
Albert
Perhaps it's one of those... eh... Whatsname. Metti-fores.
Albert
Yeah. One o' them things.
Death
A FIGURE OF SPEECH IN WHICH A WORD OR PHRASE IS APPLIED TO AN OBJECT OR ACTION TO WHICH IT IS NOT LITERALLY APPLICABLE?
Albert
Could be. I'm the only one what does any cookery 'round here master, and I ain't no gnome.
Death
THIS IS SIGNIFICANTLY APPARENT. VERY WELL. I SHALL CONTINUE.
...THE STOCKINGS WERE HUNG BY THE OLD WINDOW SILL
IN HOPES THE HOGFATHER WOULD ULTIMATELY FILL
THE RAT WAS RELAXING, THOUGH HE LOOKED TO BE DEAD
WHILE VISIONS OF SAUSAGE INVADED HIS HEAD
AND ALBERT IN HIS NIGHTCAP, AND I IN MY HOOD,
PLAYED CRIPPLE MISTER ONION FOR MATCHSTICKS OF WOOD
Albert
By the way master, that's fourteen you owe me.
Death
I SHALL DEFINITELY KEEP THAT IN MIND.
...WHEN OUT BY THE STABLE I PERCEIVED SUCH A FORCE
I WALKED THROUGH THE WALL TO CHECK ON MY HORSE
I CALLED OUT TO BINKY AND MOUNTED HIS BACK
THREW OPEN THE DOORS, AND PREPARED TO ATTACK.
Susan
What do you think you are doing?
Death
I AM READING A VISIT FROM THE HOGFATHER.
FOR THE KIDDIES.
Susan
Well that is not how it goes. You'll scare the children.
Death
I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. IT'S TRADITIONAL.
Susan
You've changed the words.
Death
THE WORDS DID NOT MAKE SENSE.
Susan
Grandfather, you are a seven foot tall skeleton in a black cowl, carrying what can most accurately be described as a sword on a stick. You've just told the children you intend to attack the Hogfather!
Albert
She's got a point you know, master.
Death
AH. I SUPPOSE I CAN SEE WHERE THAT MIGHT CAUSE SOME CONFUSION.
Susan
Just follow the original words and you'll be fine.
...THE MOONLIGHT THAT GLISTENED ON WHAT PASSED HERE FOR SNOW,
MADE A PASSIBLE IMITATION OF THE WORLD DOWN BELOW
WHEN, WHAT DID MY GLOWING BLUE EYES SOON DISPLAY,
BUT FOUR WILD BOARS PULLING A CRUDE WOODEN SLEIGH,
ON THE BENCH SAT THE DRIVER, AMIDST THE SACKS AND THE FODDER
I KNEW FROM HIS TUSKS IT MUST BE THE HOGFATHER.
MORE RAPID THAN RINCEWIND ON THE RUN FROM A BEAR,
HE GRUNTED, AND SQUEALED, AND CALL'D AT THEM THERE
"NOW GOUGER! NOW ROOTER! NOW TUSKER AND SNOUTER!
"YOU SILLY OLD PIGGIES OF MAGIC AND POWER!
"TO THE TOP OF THE COTTAGE! TO DEATH'S BITTER HALL!
"NOW DASH AWAY! DASH AWAY! DASH AWAY ALL!"
Susan
Grandfather. You're doing it again.
Albert
Pay no attention to them master. I rather like it this way.
Death
THANK YOU ALBERT! AS I WAS SAYING...
...TO THE TOP OF THE GABLE ON THE COTTAGE THEY FLEW
WITH THE SLEIGH FULL OF GOODIES — AND THE HOGFATHER TOO:
AND THEN IN A TWINKLING, I HEARD A LOUD SCRATCH
OF THE SNUFFLING AND GRUNTING OF GREAT TUSKS IN THE THATCH
I RAN THROUGH THE WALL, AS I SO OFTEN DID
WHEN DOWN THE BRICK CHIMNEY THE HOGFATHER SLID.
HE WAS DRESSED IN RED PIGSKIN, TRIMMED IN WHITE ERMINE FUR
SOMEWHAT SCORCHED FROM HIS JOURNEY THROUGH SOOT AND THE FIRE
Susan
And that doesn't quite rhyme.
Death
OH, THERE MUST BE A FEW MISTAKES IN THE RHYME AND SCANSION OR IT'S NOT 'POETRY.'
Susan
I am a school teacher. Of course I know about poetry.
Death
THEN YOU SHOULD UNDERSTAND. WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN TEACHING YOUR CHILDREN?
Susan
We've been learning iambic pentameter by reading Hwel the playwright.
Albert
Yeah. I'm with the rat. It is a bit cruel.
Death
I MYSELF HAVE NEVER BEEN COMFORTABLE WITH THE CONCEPT OF 'THEATER.' NEVERTHELESS, THIS IS POETRY. MAY I CONTINUE WITHOUT INTERRUPTION?
...A SACK FULL OF SAUSAGE ON HIS BACK LIKE A PORTER
HE LOOK'D LIKE A BUTCHER FROM JUST CARVING A QUARTER
HIS EYES — HOW THEY GLINTED! HIS TUSKS: VERY SHARP,
HIS CHEEKS WERE LIKE APPLES, HIS NOSE LIKE A CARP
Susan
Now that rhymes, but it makes no sense. Carp?
Death
HUSH SUSAN. IT'S METAPHORICAL. PERHAPS HE SMELLS SOMETHING FISHY.
...HIS GREAT GNASHING TEETH COULD BE SEEN IN THE GLOW
AND HIS COARSE SCRATCHY BEARD WAS AS WHITE AS THE SNOW;
HE HAD A BROAD FACE, AND A HUGE BARREL CHEST
THAT SHOOK WHEN HE GRUNTED, LIKE A PUDDING IN A VEST:
HE WAS BURLY AND LEAN, ALMOST BUILT LIKE A TROLL,
BUT I GRINNED WHEN I LOOKED DOWN DEEP IN HIS SOUL
HE WINKED WHEN HE SAW ME AND NODDED HIS HEAD
A SALUTE FROM A CRAFTSMAN TO THE HARVESTER OF DEAD
HE SPOKE NOT A WORD, BUT WENT STRAIGHT TO THE SILL
THE STOCKINGS WITH SAUSAGES AND HAMS HE DID FILL
THEN PINCHING HIS NOSE BETWEEN FINGER AND THUMB
HE ROSE UP THE CHIMNEY; HIS TASK HAD BEEN DONE
HE SPRUNG TO HIS SLEIGH, TO HIS HOGS GAVE A MUMBLE
AND THEY SHOT OFF THE ROOF OF THE HOUSE IN A RUMBLE
BUT I HEARD HIM EXCLAIM, AS HE DISAPPEARED IN THE SLEET--
HAPPY HOGSWATCH TO ALL, AND ENJOY THE CURED MEAT!
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