'We thought you might like us to come round at lunchtime and sing a merry Hogswatch glee for your customers,' said the Duck Man. Beside him, Coffin Henry began one of his volcanic bouts of coughing, which even sounded green. ' No charge, of course.'
'It being Hogswatch,' said Arnold.
The beggars, despite being too disreputable even to belong to the Beggars' Guild, lived quite well by their own low standards. This was generally by careful application of the Certainty Principle. People would give them all sorts of things if they were certain to go away.
A few minutes later they wandered off again, pushing a happy Arnold who was surrounded by hastily wrapped packages.
'People can be so kind,' said the Duck Man.
'Millennium hand and shrimp.'
Arnold started to investigate the charitable donations as they manoeuvred his trolley through the slush and drifts.
'Tastes... sort of familiar,' he said.
'Familiar like what?'
'Like mud and old boots.'
'Cam! That's posh grub, that is.'
'Yeah, yeah... ' Arnold chewed for a while. 'You don't think we've become posh all of a sudden?'
'Dunno. You posh, Ron?'
'Buggrit.'
'Yep. Sounds posh to me.'
The snow began to settle gently on the River Ankh.
'Still... Happy New Year, Arnold.'
'Happy New Year, Duck Man. And your duck.'
'What duck?'
'Happy New Year, Henry.'
'Happy New Year, Ron.'
'Buggrem!'
'And god bless us, every one,' said Arnold Sideways.
The curtain of snow hid them from view.
'Which god?'
'Dunno. What've you got?'
'Duck Man?'
'Yes, Henry?'
'You know that stalled ox you mentioned?'
'Yes, Henry?'
'How come it'd stalled? Run out of grass, or something?'
'Ah... it was more a figure of speech, Henry.'
'Not an ox?'
'Not exactly. What I meant was-'
And then there was only the snow.
After a while, it began to melt in the sun.
THE END