Even in a dream, even at a posh ball, the Nac Mac Feegle knew how to behave. You charged in madly, and you screamed... politely.

"Lovely weather for the time o' year, is it not, ye wee scunner!"

"Hey, jimmy, ha' ye no got a pommes frites for an ol'pal?"

"The band is playin' divinely, I dinna think!"

"Make my caviar deep-fried, wilya?

Auteur: Terry Pratchett