Мор - ученик смерти

           ’Whatwasthat?Speakup,thatman!’

           ’AsthebursarofthisuniversityImustsaythatwe’vealwaysencouragedagoodneighbourpolicywithrespecttothecommunity,’mumbledthewizard,tryingtoavoidAlbert’sgimletstare.Hehadanupturnedchamberpotonhisconscience,withthreecasesofobscenegraffititobetakenintoconsideration.

           Albertlethismouthdropopen.’Why?’hesaid.

           ’Well,er,asenseofcivicduty,wefeelit’svitallyimportantthatweshowanexamp—arrgh!’

           Thewizardtrieddesperatelytobeatouttheflamesinhisbeard.Albertloweredhisstaffandlookedslowlyalongtherowofmages.Theyswayedawayfromhisstarelikegrassinagale.

           ’Anyoneelsewanttoshowasenseofcivicduty?’hesaid.’Goodneighbours,anybody?’Hedrewhimselfuptohisfullheight.’Youspinelessmaggots!Ididn’tfoundthisUniversitysoyoucouldlendpeoplethebloodylawnmower!What’stheuseofhavingthepowerifyoudon’twieldit?Mandoesn’tshowyourespect,youdon’tleaveenoughofhisdamninntoroastchestnutson,understand?’

           Somethinglikeasoftsighwentupfromtheassembledwizards.TheystaredsadlyatthetoadinRincewind’shand.Mostofthem,inthedaysoftheiryouth,hadmasteredtheartofgettingrascallydrunkattheDrum.