An Extract from Terry Pratchett's "The Colour of Magic"
Rincewind? Death said, in tones as deep and heavy as the slamming of leaden doors, far underground.
'Um,' said Rincewind, trying to back away from that eyeless stare.
But why are you here? (Boom, boom went crypt lids, in the worm-haunted fastnesses under old mountains...)
'Um, why not?' said Rincewind. 'Anyway, I'm sure you've got lots to do, so if you'll just-'
I was surprised that you jostled me, Rincewind, for I have an appointment with thee this very night.
'Oh no, not-'
Of course, what's so bloody vexing about the whole business is that I was expecting to meet thee in Psephopolis.
'But that's five hundred miles away!'
You don't have to tell me, the whole system's got screwed up again. Look, there's no chance of you-?
Rincewind backed away, hands spread protectively in front of him. The dried fish salesman on a nearby stall watched this madman with interest.
'Not a chance!'
I could lend you a very fast horse.
It won't hurt a bit.
'No!' Rincewind turned and ran. Death watched him go, and shrugged bitterly.
- Terry Pratchett, The Colour of Magic