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A Ponderous Prank	By : Shaduan Category: A through F > Discworld Views: 3138 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Discworld, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Ponderous Prank
- 1
Disclaimer: Discworld and all associated characters are the property of Terry Pratchett. They are not mine. I am borrowing them for a bit, so don't hit me, please.
*****
It began…
It began, like so many things begin, with a tradition. Among the students of Unseen University there was a tradition that the week of final examinations before summer holiday they would choose one professor to be the target of a prank. Historically, this was open to any of the Senior Wizards, who in their stalwart belief that the younger wizards could not possibly coordinate (let alone pull off) anything of any importance became very easy to prank. The only exception to this rule was the Bursar, who lived in a world where it was perfectly normal to have pink butterflies erupt from his beard every time he took a sip of tea.
However, Ponder Stibbons, head of the High Energy Magic building and associated Department of Inadvisably Applied Wizardry, knew better than to underestimate the students. After all, only five years ago he’d been one. He knew what students were capable of. Thus, he’d been able to bypass, disarm, dispel, or cause to backfire, every single prank that the students had sent in his direction (and once his particular talent was discovered, one can only assume that they started coming in waves).
So it was that the tradition was amended slightly from Prank the Senior Wizards to Prank Ponder Stibbons.
It began…
This year it began, like so many bad ideas tend to do, with a jolly evening of drinking. Adrian “Big Mad Drongo” Turnipseed had volunteered to go foraging for post-academic refreshments, and on the way he had the seed of an idea. By the time he’d located Ridcully’s private store of liquor (he never quite managed to figure out who was stealing from it, and that suited the students just fine), it had developed into the beginning of a half-arsed plan.
Fifteen collective beers later, everyone agreed that it sounded like a hilarious idea (as many ideas tend to do when one is drunk), and Adrian was elected to get the supplies together to set it in motion.
It began…
Ponder staggered into the common room of the High Energy Magic Building, tired mentally and physically from the last round of examinations, mainly because the students seemed determined to blow the building up by goofing off. They were wizards, not alchemists, for the gods’ sakes! He’d managed to avert the disasters all afternoon, and right now the last thing he wanted to do was think.
“Hey, Ponder,” said the curtain of hair that was Skazz.
Ponder grunted something that might or might not have been a greeting.
“You look pretty knackered. Long day?”
“Long day, long week, long semester,” Ponder groused, “I’m almost starting to see why the Senior Wizards avoid teaching. Not that I’m about to give it up anytime soon, mind you.”
Skazz relaxed. Of all the professors at Unseen University, Ponder was the only one who seemed to genuinely enjoy teaching., possibly trying to make up for the rest of the faculty.
“Well, nothing goes better with a bad day like a good drink, right?”
“Got a bottle of Ridcully?”
Skazz hesitated. Everyone knew that a bottle of Ridcully meant (except, of course, for the Archchancellor himself) – a drink of mysterious origins called Old Toadlicker that everyone agreed was thick and hard to swallow, came on entirely too strong, and left you with a throbbing headache and a vague feeling of queasiness that lasted until the next morning. It came in metal flasks because it tended to eat glass.
“Ridcully it is. Give me a sec.” He darted out of the room, and there was a frantic whispered conversation just out of earshot, the gist of which was this:
“Get some Toadlicker!”
“Got it right here. Where’s the stuff?”
“Drongo gave it to me this morning. I got it right here.”
“How much should we put in?”
“He didn’t say. You know, he also never said where he managed to get this stuff…”
“Never mind. We’ll put it all in.”
“I don’t know—it seems like a lot…”
“For all you know this stuff is diluted.”
There was a faint bloop-bloop-bloop, and then Skazz returned with a bottle of Old Toadlicker. Ponder took it without looking up, and then did something that amazed the wizards who were watching through the cracked door: He slammed it.
He put the bottle to his lips and upended it, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down like a hyperactive monkey gathering coconuts, the fumes from the Toadlicker curling out like dry ice fog and dribbling down his face like he had a beard. He shook the bottle to make sure he had drained the last of it, and then slammed the receptacle down on the table with a hollow PONG, wiping away the clingy mist. He got up, looking rather revitalized.
“You know, I do believe that helped quite a bit,” he said brightly, walking back towards the study, “I think I’ll just go work on some resjhgmph.”
To his credit, he had gotten father than any of those gathered thought he would be able to under the circumstances. They hustled forward like paramedics, lifted their fallen brethren from the floor by shoulders and ankles, and carried him back to his room to sleep it off.
Adrian might well be mad later that they’d used it all up, but they figured that if this worked according to plan it would be a worthy investment of his bottle of nymph essence.
*****
It began…
Ponder awoke the next morning with a head full of steel wool, a stomach full of rancid eggs, and a bladder that was just full. He sat up, rubbed his face (silently cursing himself for passing out in his glasses), and wobbled slightly from an unaccountable change in equilibrium. He dismissed this as a side effect of chugging a bottle of Old Toadlicker the previous night, and in a sense this was very much the case.
He staggered unevenly to the lavatory without trying to open his eyes (they felt gummed shut in any case), bumped his knees against the toilet, and determined by touch that Mrs. Whitlow had not, in her infinite femininity, put the seat down. He fumbled open his pants, and after he had quested around therein for a few moments it dawned on him that all was not right with the world. He held no illusions of his own masculine endowment, but he had always been able to find his wizard’s staff with little trouble in the past.
He peeled his eyes open, bent forward as far as he possibly could (encountering a strange swelling en route but pushing it back out of the way for now), and forced himself to focus, hoping that his eyes could find what his hand could not.
They didn’t. There was nothing to find. His blood ran cold.
He straightened up so fast his head spun, and from the tail of his eye caught a glimpse in the mirrored medicine chest. The face in the mirror was undeniably female, framed by silky black hair and possessing luminous green eyes behind scholarly spectacles, full pink lips, and a pert little button of a nose. Her alabaster skin was utterly flawless, and looked like it had never ever heard of a single pimple, blackhead, or blemish. She looked every bit as stunned as he did.
As an experiment, and not at all looking forward to the result, he slowly put a hand up and waved at the mirror. As he waved, so did she. He pulled a face. She imitated it perfectly. He slowly turned away from the mirror, recalling the obstacle he’d met while trying to find himself. He cautiously glanced down to see the front of his robe forming a shelf that most certainly was NOT there the previous night. He grabbed at it, and found that it was in fact a they. And “they” were approximately the size of grapefruits. He fumbled open the buttons of his shirt.
They were round and firm, with the perkiness of youth. And they certainly did not belong on him. He was not supposed to have tits. He was going to have to kill someone.
But, first things first.
Ponder Stibbons screamed, a shrill high “E” that cracked the bathroom mirror.
- 1
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A Ponderous Prank