^[20] Oi Dong being not dissimilar to Shangri-La. <<

^[21] ‘lawn ornament’ <<

^[22] Not to be confused with the fabled Nougat Knights, famed in dwarfish mythology as the ancestors who, at the beginning of the world, created the treacle mines and other subterranean sweets. <<

^[23] Moist wondered whether it should be loti, but thought, well, what the hell. <<

^[24] The term ‘specie’ requires the person asking for it to rub their thumb and forefinger together in a knowing way, if you know what I mean, guvnor? <<

^[25] The moment Moist heard the name he went for the dictionary and was relieved to find that fornacite was a rare lead, copper chromate arsenate hydroxide mineral. The troll was a lovely bluey green colour. <<

^[26] Humans would have said, ‘Put it where the sun don’t shine.’ <<

^[27] There had been some discussion about the word ‘hygienic’, and Moist had lost. Hygienic, everyone else thought, gave the project a certain tone, a sort of je ne sais quoi. Lady King said this herself and who was going to argue with the Duchess? <<

^[28] Although in the eyes of her spouse she had always been the Duchess, a pet name he reserved for just her. <<

^[29] The feared kitten torture was actually one dreamed up by Moist, and Vetinari had been impressed. In the dungeons of the palace there was a large iron maiden, seldom used. In these modern times the kitten torture regime was the punishment that would cause the miscreant to pause before doing anything that would place them in the dungeon again. The mechanism and the kittens were presided over by Cedric: not clever, but grateful for the pay packet every month, and he was very fond of kittens, with which the streets of Ankh-Morpork were overflowing. The kittens would be placed in the iron maiden in large numbers, along with the miscreant who could just about sit. At the bottom was a little hatch, large enough to push through a sizeable saucer of milk. Every time a kitten was in distress and made its distress noticeable, Cedric would open up the maiden and give the victim a whack with his cudgel, the amount of cudgelling being contingent on the state of upset of said kitten. There were some idiots who thought this laughable, but it worked, and after a certain amount of cudgelling visitors were said to be amazed at the general atmosphere of happiness inside the iron maiden, where the purring was so loud it resonated throughout the dungeon. <<

^[30] A discipline where the hands move in time as well as in space, the exponent twisting space behind his own back whilst doing so. <<

^[31] All’s mastery of artery-clogging cuisine had made him a number of friends in interesting places – trading sources for sauces had turned out to be very good business practice. <<

^[32] A dismay shared by many of the journalists, who worried they would get mud on their new shoes and be attacked by pheasants. <<