Soul Music

gravity! He was definitely not going to fold his clothes before going to bed! Ridcully was going to say, oh, you’re a rebel, are you, what are you rebelling against, and he’d say…he’d say something pretty damn memorable, that’s what he’d do! He was—
    But the Archchancellor had stalked off.
    “mumblemumblemumble,” said the Dean defiantly, a rebel without a pause.

    There was a knock at the door, barely audible above the din. Cliff opened it a cautious fraction.
    “It’s me, Hibiscus. Here’s your beers. Drink ’em up and get out!”
    “How can we get out?” said Glod. “Every time they see us they force us to play some more!”
    Hibiscus shrugged. “I don’t care,” he said. “But you owe me a dollar for the beer and twenty-five dollars for the broken furniture—”
    Cliff shut the door.
    “I could negotiate with him,” said Glod.
    “No, we can’t afford it,” said Buddy.
    They looked at one another.
    “Well, the crowd loved us,” said Buddy. “I think we were a big success. Er.”
    In the silence Cliff bit the end off a beer bottle and poured the contents over his head. *
    “What we all want to know is,” said Glod, “what you thought you were doing out there?”
    “Oook.”
    “And how come,” said Cliff, crunching up the rest of the bottle, “we all knew what to play?”
    “Oook.”
    “And also,” said Glod, “what you were singing.”
    “Er…”
    “‘Don’t Tread On My New Blue Boots’?” said Cliff.
    “Oook.”
    “‘Good Gracious Miss Polly’?” said Glod.
    “Er…”
    “‘Sto Helit Lace’?” said Cliff.
    “Oook?”
    “It’s a kind of very fine lace they make in the city of Sto Helit,” said Glod.
    He gave Buddy a lopsided look.
    “That bit where you said ‘hello, baby,’” he said. “Why’d you do that?”
    “Er…”
    “I mean, it’s not as if they even allow small children into the Drum.”
    “I don’t know. The words were just there,” said Buddy. “They were sort of part of the music…”
    “And you were…moving about in a funny way. Like you were having trouble with your trousers,” said Glod. “I’m no expert on humans, of course, but I saw some ladies in the audience looking at you like a dwarf looks at a girl when he knows her father’s got a big shaft and several rich seams.”
    “Yeah,” said Cliff. “And like when a troll is thinking: hey, will you look at der strata on dat one…”
    “You’re certain you’ve got no elvish in you, are you?” said Glod. “Once or twice I thought you were acting a bit…elvish.”
    “ I don’t know what’s happening! ” said Buddy.
    The guitar whined.
    They looked at it.
    “What we do is,” said Cliff, “we take dat and throw it in der river. All those in favor say ‘Aye.’ Or Oook, as der case may be.”
    There was another silence. No one rushed to pick up the instrument.
    “But the thing is,” said Glod, “the thing is…they did love us out there.”
    They thought about this.
    “It didn’t actually feel… bad ,” said Buddy.
    “Got to admit…I never had an audience like dat in my whole life,” said Cliff.
    “Oook.”
    “If we’re so good,” said Glod, “why ain’t we rich?”
    “‘Cos you do der negotiatin’,” said Cliff. “If we’ve got to pay for der furniture, I’m soon goin’ to have to eat my dinner through a straw.”
    “You saying I’m no good?” said Glod, getting angrily to his feet.
    “You blow good horn. But you ain’t no financial wizard.”
    “Hah, I’d just like to see—”
    There was a knock on the door.
    Cliff sighed. “Dat’ll be Hibiscus again,” he said. “Pass me dat mirror. I’ll try to hit one out on de other side.”
    Buddy opened the door. Hibiscus was there, but behind a smaller man wearing a long coat and a wide, friendly grin.
    “Ah,” said the grin. “You’d be Buddy, right?”
    “Er, yes.”
    And then the man was inside, without actually appearing to have moved, and kicking the door shut in the landlord’s face.
    “Dibbler’s the name,” the grin went on. “C.M.O.T Dibbler. I daresay you’ve heard of me?”
    “Oook!”
    “I ain’t talking to you! I’m talking to you other guys.”
    “No,” said Buddy, “I don’t think we have.”
    The grin appeared to widen.
    “I hear you boys are in a bit of trouble,” said Dibbler. “Broken furniture and whatnot.”
    “We’re not even going to get paid,” said Cliff, glaring at Glod.
    “Well now,” said Dibbler, “It could just be