'Yes, point taken, but do you have any particular skills?'
Death thought about it.
I SUPPOSE A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF EXPERTISE WITH AGRICULTURAL IMPLEMENTS? he ventured after a while.
The young man shook his head firmly.
NO?
'This is a city, Mr —' he glanced down, and once again felt a faint unease that he couldn't quite put his finger on – 'Mr – Mr – Mr, and we're a bit short of fields.'
He laid down his pen and gave the kind of smile that suggested he'd learned it from a book.
Ankh-Morpork wasn't advanced enough to possess an employment exchange. People took jobs because their fathers made room for them, or because their natural talent found an opening, or by word-of-mouth. But there was a call for servants and menial workers, and with the commercial sections of the city beginning to boom the thin young man – a Mr Liona Keeble – had invented the profession of job broker and was, right at this moment, finding it difficult.
'My dear Mr —' he glanced down – 'Mr, we get many people coming into the city from outside because, alas, they believe life is richer here. Excuse me for saying so, but you seem to me to be a gentleman down on his luck. I would have thought you would have preferred something rather more refined than —' he glanced down again, and frowned – ' “something nice working with cats or flowers”.'
I'M SORRY. I FELT IT WAS TIME FOR A CHANGE.
'Can you play a musical instrument ?'
NO.
'Can you do carpentry?'
I DO NOT KNOW, I HAVE NEVER TRIED. Death tared at his feet. He was beginning to feel deeply embarrassed.
Keeble shuffled the paper on his desk, and sighed.
I CAN WALK THROUGH WALLS, Death volunteered, aware that the conversation had reached an impasse.
Keeble looked up brightly. 'I'd like to see that,' he said. 'That could be quite a qualification.'
RIGHT.
Death pushed his chair back and stalked confidently towards the nearest wall.
OUCH.
Keeble watched expectantly. 'Go on, then,' he said.
UM. THIS IS AN ORDINARY WALL, IS IT?
'I assume so. I'm not an expert.'
IT SEEMS TO BE PRESENTING ME WITH SOME DIFFICULTY.
'So it would appear.'
WHAT DO YOU CALL THE FEELING OF BEING VERY SMALL AND HOT?
Keeble twiddled his pencil.
'Pygmy?'
BEGINS WITH AN M.
'Embarrassing?'