“When he forced his eyes open, he saw pale stars above him, and had, once again, the sensation that there was someone else present.
He turned his head, wincing at the stab of pain, and saw a small but brightly lit folding chair on the sand. A robed figure was reclining in it, reading a book. A scythe was stuck in the sand beside it.
A white, skeletal hand turned a page.
“You’ll be Death, then?” said Vimes, after a while.
AH, MISTER VIMES, ASTUTE AS EVER. GOT IT IN ONE, said Death, shutting the book on his finger to keep the place.
“I’ve seen you before.”
I HAVE WALKED WITH YOU MANY TIMES, MISTER VIMES.
“And this is it, is it?”
HAS IT NEVER STRUCK YOU THAT THE CONCEPT OF A WRITTEN NARRATIVE IS SOMEWHAT STRANGE? said Death.
Vimes could tell when people were trying to avoid something they really didn’t want to say, and it was happening here.
“Is it?” he insisted. “Is this it? This time I die?”
“Could be? What sort of answer is that?” said Vimes.
A VERY ACCURATE ONE. YOU SEE, YOU ARE HAVING A NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCE, WHICH MEANS THAT I MUST UNDERGO A NEAR-VIMES EXPERIENCE. DON’T MIND ME. CARRY ON WITH WHATEVER YOU WERE DOING. I HAVE A BOOK.
Vimes rolled over onto his stomach, gritted his teeth, and pushed himself onto his hands and knees again. He managed a few yards before slumping back down.
He heard the sound of a chair being moved.
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?” he said.
I AM, said Death, sitting down again.
“But you’re here!”
AS WELL, Death turned a page and, for a person without breath, managed a pretty good sigh. IT APPEARS THAT THE BUTLER DID IT.
IT IS A MADE-UP STORY. VERY STRANGE. ALL ONE NEED DO IS TURN TO THE LAST PAGE AND THE ANSWER IS RIGHT THERE. WHAT, THEREFORE, IS THE POINT OF DELIBERATELY NOT KNOWING?”
That’s actually really nice to hear, thanks anon!
Being a nice person is so fun
Waiter messes something up? You can see the relief on their faces when you don’t scream and swear at them about it
Extra tickets at an arcade/prize place? Watch a little kid’s face light up when you give them a bunch of tickets
There are too many assholes in this world. Be a nice person.
Discworld headcanon: Much like the sheperds of the Chalk do, when a watchman dies they are buried with their badge for more or less the same reasons. Actually let’s be honest, it’s more because crime happens everywhere (and no one’s arrested the gods. Yet.)