It isn't easy, being a teenage pharoah. You're not allowed to carry money, uninhibited young women peel your grapes for you, everyone thinks you're responsible for making the sun rise and the corn grow, you keep dreaming about seven thin cows and seven fat cows* and, on top of everything else, the Great Pyramid has just exploded because of paracosmic instability.

And then you've got to deal with all these assassins, sphinxes, huge wooden horses, mad high priests, philosophers, sacred crocodiles,gods, marching mummies, jobbing pyramid builders and Hat, the Vulture-Headed God of Unexpected Guests.

And all you really wanted was the chance to do something for young people and the inner cities.

Definitely the funniest Discworld book since the last one.

*One of them playing a trombone.