[ OT ] I 'd like to take a moment to appreciate Sir Terry Pratchett .

Elsewhere. 
 
 He had been walking for the past... what was it? Minutes? Years? It felt good to be able to walk again. That shell of a body was getting too... stuffed. Like the house of your childhood, that now seems like a trap. He was able to thing straight again, after so many years. He patiently waited, as they had left the room. 
 
 Then he came. Just like he had written him. Black, and white, with eyes of a crystalline fire. 
 
 `` THERE IS SOME... TROUBLE. `` 
 
 `` Oh?'' 
 
 `` A COUPLE OF PEOPLE HAVE ASKED ME TO GET YOU TO THEM. `` 
 
 A long silence followed. Then, Death lifted his scythe, and with a few quick cuts, the Figure stood free. 
 
 `` It hurts a bit to lave them like this. `` 
 
 `` YOU HAVE DONE MORE THEN YOU THINK FOR THEM... AND ME'' 
 
 `` Really? All I did was write stories. `` 
 
 `` YOU ENCHANTED THE MINDS OF MILLIONS. YOU WERE A GOOD HUSBAND; AND FATHER. AND YOU GAVE ME CATS. `` 
 
 The man took his leather hat, and his vest, and stood up. 
 
 `` I am ready'' 
 
 `` NO QUESTIONS?'' 
 
 `` Ca n't think of any. i am honestly curious of hat comes after. `` 
 
 He looked up to Death, as they stood still.. 
 
 `` YOU KNOW... I AM SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU THAT THERE IS A VASTNESS OF SAND. BUT YOU HAVE FIGURED THIS OUT. HOWEVER; I SOMETIMES MAKE MISTAKES. WHEN SOMEONE TAKES A STEP BACK; WHO KNOWS WHERE THEY....'' 
 
 He felt the hole closing. All he had done was admit to a tiny mistake. He was contempt. 
 
 The hall of the unseen university smoldered. According to rough calucualtions, that Ponder performed on the fly, just that simple generator had overheated, and had shot 50.000 Thaum in energy.... Where? Who cared? If this worked... 
 
 As the smoke lifted, he saw the man standing there. Trousers of some blue material, a leather vest, and a hat. Looked a bit like one of the fourexian 
 exchange students they often had over. 
 
 He carefully approached him. 
 
 `` I am sorry'', he said, as he switched to the fourexian accent. `` I gave Hex the wrong set of coordinates. It must be a terrible mistake....'' 
 
 He stopped, as the stranger looked at him. He was old, just the right age for a professor. 
 
 `` You must be Ponder, right? `` 
 
 It was a bit creepy. The smile, the hat, the glasses... All of it seemed too familliar. 
 
 `` Ponder Stibbons, Sir. ``, he said, feeling a bit uncomfortable. `` Have we met before?'' 
 
 The stranger turned around, and looked at the great hall. Looked at the heaps of smoldering furniture. 
 
 `` This is The Unseen University, Ahnk Morpork, right? `` 
 
 Ponder stopped a bit. 
 
 `` Sir, the question may seem stupid, but are you qualified to be a professor? have you published anything? I told hex to get the best fit for the professor of cultural studies, and I am thinking there may be a mistake'' 
 
 The question seemed unimportant, but as the stranger turned around, he had tears running down his beard. He stepped forward, and enclosed the now totally confused Stibbons in a hug. 
 
 `` You can say that. My name is....'' the stranger paused for a second, and then smiled. `` PTerry. Sir PTerry. What would I be supposed to teach?'' 
 
 Ponder nodded carefully, and wrote it down. 
 
 `` Well, PTerry, since hex picked you, you must be qualified to teach about all the cultures of the Discworld. You do get a travel budget, a small office in the unseen univcersity, and you are free to publish books when you like, but the archchancellor lets you know that less then one per year, and he will have a word with you. `` 
 
 Instead of the reaction Stibbons expected, The man smiled, and nodded. 
 
 And so, Ponder helped the new Professor for Cultural studies, Pterry, to clean himself off, and to take him to the tailors. 
 
 THE END.
