He stopped, blinked and grabbed one of his assistants who had turned up with a full list of Bengo Macarona's honours and pushed him down in the chair.
'Write down everything that I say!' he shouted. 'And I hope your shorthand is better than mine, and if it isn't you'll be sacked in the morning. This is insane!' They did it on purpose, I'll swear they did it on purpose. He kicked the ball directly at his own goalkeeper, knowing, I swear, that he could take advantage of the Librarian's renowned upper body strength to throw the ball almost the entire length of the pitch. And there is Bengo Macarona, more or less unnoticed by his opponents, heading towards the missile while United have streamed away from their citadel, like the ill-fated Maranids during the first Prodostian war [the editor liked to think of himself as a classicist].
'I've never seen anything like it!' he shouted at his almost deafened assistant. 'They've got United all in the wrong place.' And there goes Macarona. The ball appears to be attached to his feet. And there ahead of him appears to be the only member of the luckless United squad that knows what's going on. Mr Charles 'Big Boy' Barton, who nevertheless is staggering out of the goalmouth, like the Giant Octopal, upon seeing the hordes of the Mormidons.
The editor fell silent, forgetting everything as the ground between the two men shortened by the moment. 'Oh, no!' he said.
There was a huge cheer from the crowd. 'What happened?' said the assistant, pencil poised.
'Didn't you see it? Didn't you see it?' said the editor. His hair was dishevelled and he looked like a man nearing madness. 'Macarona ran round him! I don't know how the ball stayed at his feet.'
'Do you mean he dodged past him, sir?' said the assistant.
The noise of the crowd would have been incandescent had it been visible. 'Another goal,' said the editor slumping. 'Two goals in as many minutes! No, he didn't dodge him, he ran around him! Twice! And I'll swear, ended up going faster.'
'Ah, yes,' said the assistant, still writing. 'I went to a lecture about that sort of thing, once. It was about how things don't hit the world turtle, sir. It was like a slingshot effect, he may have picked up additional speed as he rounded the goalkeeper's enormous girth, sir.'
'And listen to the crowd roar!' said the editor. 'And write it down.'
'Yes, sir, that would be: One Professor Macarona D. Thau (Bug), D. Maus (Chubb), Magistaludorum (QIS), Octavium (Hons), PHGK (Blit), DMSK, Mack, D. Thau (Bra), Visiting Professor in Chickens (Jahn the Conqueror University (Floor 2, Shrimp Packers Building, Genua)), Primo Octo (Deux), Visiting Professor of Blit/Slood Exchanges (Al Khali), KCbfJ, Reciprocating Professor of Blit Theory (Unki), D. Thau (Unki), Didimus Supremius (Unki), Emeritus Professor in Blit Substrate Determinations (Chubb), Chair of Blit and Music Studies (Quirm College for Young Ladies), there's only one Professor Macarona D. Thau (Bug), D. Maus (Chubb), Magistaludorum (QIS), Octavium (Hons), PHGK (Blit), DMSK, Mack, D. Thau (Bra), Visiting Professor in Chickens (Jahn the Conqueror University (Floor 2, Shrimp Packers Building, Genua)), Primo Octo (Deux), Visiting Professor of Blit/Slood Exchanges (Al Khali), KCbfJ, Reciprocating Professor of Blit Theory (Unki), D. Thau (Unki), Didimus Supremius (Unki), Emeritus Professor in Blit Substrate Determinations (Chubb), Chair of Blit and Music Studies (Quirm College for Young Ladies), there's only oooonnnnnnne Professor Bengo Macarooonaah D. Thau (Bug), D. Maus (Chubb), Magistaludorum (QIS), Octavium (Hons), PHGK (Blit), DMSK, Mack, D. Thau (Bra), Visiting Professor in Chickens (Jahn the Conqueror University (Floor 2, Shrimp Packers Building, Genua)), Primo Octo (Deux), Visiting Professor of Blit/Slood Exchanges (Al Khali), KCbfJ, Reciprocating Professor of Blit Theory (Unki), D. Thau (Unki), Didimus Supremius (Unki), Emeritus Professor in Blit Substrate Determinations (Chubb), Chair of Blit and Music Studies (Quirm College for Young Ladies), oooonnnnnnnly one Professor Bengo Macaroooonaaaah D. Thau (Bug), D. Maus (Chubb), Magistaludorum (QIS), Octavium (Hons), PHGK (Blit), DMSK, Mack, D. Thau (Bra), Visiting Professor in Chickens (Jahn the Conqueror University (Floor 2, Shrimp Packers Building, Genua)), Primo Octo (Deux), Visiting Professor of Blit/Slood Exchanges (Al Khali), KCbfJ, Reciprocating Professor of Blit Theory (Unki), D. Thau (Unki), Didimus Supremius (Unki), Emeritus Professor in Blit Substrate Determinations (Chubb), Chair of Blit and Music Studies (Quirm College for Young Ladies). But wouldn't he be off-the-side, sir?'
'That would indeed appear to be the complaint of the luckless warriors of United,' said the editor. 'They are clustering around the referee and what would I give to be a fly on that wall?'
'There is no wall, sir.'
'It would seem - ' and the editor stopped dead. 'Who is that?'
'What is that, sir?'
'Look over there at the stands! The upper-class stands, I might add, to which we were not invited.'
The sun usefully took this opportunity to appear from behind the clouds and the bowl of the Hippo seemed to fill with light.
'That's the micromail girl, sir,' said the assistant.
Even some of the protesting United team were looking up at the stands now. She hurt the eyes, but they were dragged towards it again.
'I've got her picture on my bedroom wall,' said the assistant. 'Everyone has been looking for her.' He coughed. 'They say it doesn't chafe, you know.'
Now, all the footballers on the field, bar the unfortunate Charlie Barton, who was having a dizzy spell, were clustered around the referee, who said, 'I repeat; it was a perfectly acceptable goal. A trifle unkind and showy, perhaps, but nevertheless entirely within the rules. You've watched the Unseen lads training. The game moves about. It doesn't send you a clacks to tell you what's happening next.'
A voice a little lower down said, 'It is an elementary mistake to believe that even the most doughty keeper of the net can single-handedly defend against the full might of the opposing team.' This was Nutt.
'Mister Nutt, you are not supposed to tell them that sort of thing,' said Ridcully.
Mr Hoggett looked downcast. A man betrayed by team, history and expectations. 'I can see we've got a lot to learn,' he said.
Trev pulled Nutt off to one side. 'And this is where it all goes bad,' he said.
'Oh, come now, Mister Trev. We're doing very well. Bengo is, anyway.'
'I'm not watching him. I'm watching Andy and Andy is watchin' Bengo. They're bidin' their time. They're lettin' the poor old buggers get into a hell of a fix and then they'll just take over.'
And then Trev was given a short lesson in why wizards are wizards.
'I have a modest proposal and I wonder if you will hear me out, referee. While we at Unseen University are absolute novices, we have had rather more time to get to grips with the new football than our current opponents have. Therefore, I propose to give them one of our goals,' said Ridcully.
'You can't do that, sir!' said Ponder.