Terry Pratchett's Hogfather

Terry Pratchett's Hogfather is a 2006 television adaptation of the Discworld novel of the same name by Terry Pratchett. When the Hogfather (the Discworld equivalent of Santa Claus) goes missing on Hogswatchnight, Death is forced to take his place while his granddaughter Susan tries to find out what happened.

Narrator

• Everything starts somewhere, although many physicists disagree. There is the constant desire to find out where - where is the point where it all began. But much, much later than that the Discworld was formed. Drifting onwards through space...atop four elephants on the shell of a giant turtle, the great A'Tuin. It was some time after its creation when most people forgot that the very oldest stories of the beginning are sooner or later about blood. At least that's one theory. The philosopher Didactylos suggested an alternative hypothesis: 'things just happen, what the hell'. And so our story begins in Ankh-Morpork, the twin city of proud Ankh and pestilent Morpork, the biggest city in Discworld. A city where magic is just another job, and where the Tower of Art of the Unseen University for Wizards looms over all the dark narrow streets...Our story begins on a midwinter festival bearing a remarkable similarity to your Christmas. And so...it was the night before Hogswatch.

Death

• Could I give you a hand?.
• Onwards, Binky, to the Hogfather's Castle of Bones.
• Oh, yes, and um...Ho Ho Ho.
• Applesauce.
• Do YOU Believe?
• You might think I'd already thought of that, but I couldn't possibly comment.
• I don't know if you noticed, Albert, but that was a pune, or play on words.
• I AM last minute stuff.
• There has to be something in the stocking that makes a noise. Otherwise, what is 4:30 A.M. for?

Susan Sto Helit

• And then Jack chopped down what was the world's last beanstalk, adding murder and ecological terrorism to the theft, enticement, and trespass charges already mentioned, and all the giant's children didn't have a daddy anymore. But he got away with it and lived happily ever after, without so much as a guilty twinge about what he had done...which proves that you can be excused for just about anything if you are a hero, because no one asks inconvenient questions.
• Go away, I don't do that stuff anymore.
• (To monster): Go away and stop bothering me.
• His name is Bilius. He's the Oh God of Hangovers.
• (To Mr. Teatime, as she slaps him): Hi, inner child, I'm the inner babysitter.

Others

• Man: Ye gods, there's a girl out here with a poker!
• Twyla: Susan says, don't get afraid, get angry.
• Mr. Teatime: (About Banjo) What is this? Does it do tricks? (Laughs) It looks like a volcano.
• Ridcully: In my day, when I was an undergraduate, I wouldn't have been studying on Hogswatchnight. It's just not natural. I'd have been sick twice by now...
• Mr. Sideney: It's a very enemy-friendly spell. Sir.
• Mr. Brown: There you are, I've unlocked it. (Banjo pushes the door in) And Banjo's opened it.
• Banjo: (flinging Mr. Teatime toward a fatal fall) No pulling girls' hair. That's bad!

Dialogue

Lord Downey: The doors are locked. The windows are barred. The dogs do not appear to have woken up. The squeaky floorboards haven't. I really doubt that you are a ghost, and gods generally do not announce themselves so politely. You could, of course, be Death, but I don't believe he bothers with such niceties and, besides, I am feeling quite well. Hmm. (Auditor appears.) Good evening.

Auditor: Good evening, Lord Downey.

Lord Downey: You wish someone inhumed?

Auditor: Brought to an end.

Lord Downey: Our scale of fees -

Auditor: The payment will be three million dollars.

Lord Downey: No questions asked, I assume.

Auditor: No questions answered.

Lord Downey: We need to know your name. Or names. In strict client confidentiality, of course.

Auditor: You may think of us as...the Auditors.

Lord Downey: Really? What is it you audit?

Auditor: Everything. We maintain the logical order of the Universe.

Lord Downey: I think we need to know something about you.

Auditor: We are the people with three million dollars.

Lord Downey: We need to know where, when, and, of course, who.

Auditor: The location is not on any map, and we need the task to be completed by sunrise tomorrow. This is essential. As for the who - let us call him the Fat Man.

---

Susan: Well, that about wraps it up for this dress... I'd just like to ask, purely out of academic interest, you were sure I was going to survive, were you?

Death: I was quite confident.

Susan: Good. Now, tell me--

Death: What would have happened if you hadn't saved him?

Susan: Yes.

Death: The sun would not have risen.

Susan: Then what would have happened?

Death: A mere ball of flaming gas would have illuminated the world.

Susan: Alright, I'm not stupid. You're saying that humans need fantasies to make life bearable?

Death: No. Humans need fantasy to be human. To be the place where the falling angel meets the rising ape.

Susan: With tooth fairies? Hogfathers?

Death: Yes. As practice, you have to start out learning to believe the little lies.

Susan: So we can believe the big ones?

Death: Yes. Justice, mercy, duty, that sort of thing.

Susan: Well, they're not the same at all.

Death: You think so? Then take the universe and grind it down to the finest powder, and sieve it through the finest sieve, and then show me one atom of justice, one molecule of mercy. And yet, you try to act as if there is some ideal order in the world. As if there is some... some rightness in the universe by which it may be judged.

Susan: But if people have got to believe that, what's the point?

Death: You need to believe in things that aren't true. How else can they become?

---

Chickenwire: That's a wizard.

Mr. Sideney: No I'm not! I'm incognito.

Lilywhite: Right, Mr Gnito.

---

Albert: What good is a god that gives you everything you want?

Death: You have me there.

---

Wizard: Be careful, Archchancellor! What you have there may represent pure sobriety.

Oh God of Hangovers: I'll try it.

---

Susan: My grandfather is Death.

Oh God of Hangovers: Ooohh, I'm sorry to hear that.

Susan: Death. You know, Death. The robes, the scythe, the white horse, bones. Death. But at the moment he's acting rather strange.

Oh God of Hangovers: I just wanna make sure I've got this clear. You think your grandfather is Death and you think he's acting strange.