He raked his claws across the place where the Fool's ears should have been, and was rewarded with nothing more than a metallic scraping noise.
'Who's a good boy, den?' said the Fool. 'Wowsa wowsa whoosh.'
This intrigued Greebo. The only other person who had ever spoken to him like this was Nanny Ogg; everyone else addressed him as 'Yarrgeroffoutofityahbarstard'. He leaned down very carefully, intrigued by the new experience.
From the Fool's point of view an upside-down cat face lowered itself slowly into his field of vision, wearing an expression of evil-eyed interest.
'Does oo want to go home, den?' said the Fool hopefully. 'Look, Mr Door is open.'
Greebo increased his grip. He had found a friend.
The Fool shrugged, very carefully, turned, and walked back into the passage. He made his way down through the hall, out into the courtyard, around the side of the guardroom and out through the main gate, nodding – carefully – to the guards.
'Man just went past with a cat on his head,' one of them remarked, after a minute or two's reflection.
'See who it was?'
'The Fool, I think.'
There was a thoughtful pause. The second guard shifted his grip on his halberd.
'It's a rotten job,' he said. 'But I suppose someone's got to do it.'
'We ain't going to curse anyone,' said Granny firmly. 'It hardly ever works if they don't know you've done it.'
'What you do is, you send him a doll of himself with pins in.'
'No, Gytha.'
'All you have to do is get hold of some of his toenails,' Nanny persisted, enthusiastically.
'No.'
'Or some of his hair or anything. I've got some pins.'
'No.'
'Cursing people is morally unsound and extremely bad for your karma,' said Magrat.
'Well, I'm going to curse him anyway,' said Nanny. 'Under my breath, like. I could of caught my death in that dungeon for all he cared.'
'We ain't going to curse him,' said Granny. 'We're going to replace him. What did you do with the old king?'
'I left the rock on the kitchen table,' said Nanny. 'I couldn't stand it any more.'
'I don't see why,' said Magrat. 'He seemed very pleasant. For a ghost.'
'Oh, he was all right. It was the others,' said Nanny.
'Others?'
' “Pray carry a stone out of the palace so's I can haunt it, good mother,” he says,' said Nanny Ogg. ' “It's bloody boring in here, Mistress Ogg, excuse my Klatchian,” he says, so of course I did. I reckon they was all listening. Ho yes, they all thinks, all aboard, time for a bit of a holiday. I've nothing against ghosts. Especially royal ghosts,' she added loyally. 'But my cottage isn't the place for them. I mean, there's some woman in a chariot yelling her head off in the washhouse. I ask you. And there's a couple of little kiddies in the pantry, and men without heads all over the place, and someone screaming under the sink, and there's this little hairy man wandering around looking lost and everything. It's not right.'
'Just so long as he's not here,' said Granny. 'We don't want any men around.'
'He's a ghost, not a man,' said Magrat.
'We don't have to go into details,' Granny said icily.