"What the hell was that?"

A smaller thing flashed into existence by his ear.

Ridcully snatched at his hat.

"Damn!" - the swarm increased by one – "Something just bit me!"

A squadron of newly-hatched Blasteds made a valiant bid for freedom. He swatted at them ineffectually.

"Get away, you b –" he began.

"Don't say it!" said the Senior Wrangler. "Shut up!"

People never told the Archchancellor to shut up. Shutting up was something that happened to other people. He shut up out of shock.

"I mean, every time you swear it comes alive," said the Senior Wrangler hurriedly. "Ghastly little winged things pop out of the air."

"Bloody hellfire!" said the Archchancellor.

Pop. Pop.

The Bursar crawled dazed out of the tangled wreckage of the wire trolley. He found his pointy hat, dusted it off, tried it on, frowned, and took a wheel out of it. His colleagues didn't seem to be paying him much attention.

He heard the Archchancellor say, "But I've always done it! Nothing wrong with a good swear, it keeps the blood flowing. Watch out, Dean, one of the bug -"

"Can't you say something else?" shouted the Senior Wrangler, above the buzz and whine of the swarm.

"Like what?"

"Like...oh...like...darn."

"Darn?"

"Yes, or maybe poot."

"What? You want me to say poot?"

The Bursar crept up to the group. Arguing over petty details at times of dimensional emergency was a familiar wizardly trait.

"Mrs. Whitlow the housekeeper always says "Sugar!" when she drops something," he volunteered.

The Archchancellor turned on him.

"She may say sugar," he growled, "but what she means, is shi-"

The wizards ducked. Ridcully managed to stop himself.

"Oh, darn," he said miserably. The swearwords settled amiably on his hat.

"They like you," said the Dean.

"You're their daddy," said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.

Ridcully scowled. "You b- boys can stop being silly at your Archchancellor's expense and da-jolly well find out what's going on," he said.

The wizards looked expectantly at the air. Nothing appeared.

"You're doing fine," said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. "Keep it up."

"Darn darn darn," said the Archchancellor. "Sugar sugar sugar. Pooty pootity poot. " He shook his head.

"It's no good, it doesn't relieve my feelings one bit."