Up on the housetops porkers paw...at least on Discworld they do. And down the chimney comes good old Hogfather. Or at least, he's supposed to. Who can take his place if the Hogfather is somehow...indisposed? How about Death and his chain-smoking cook, Albert? Yes, Virginia, we really are on Discworld.
"Hogfather" is one of my favorite Discworld novels (and the made-for-TV movie isn't bad, either - Hogfather) because only Pratchett has the audacity to tangle together three of our favorite anthropomorphic personifications (Santa Claus a.k.a. the Hogfather, the Tooth Fairy, and Death) in one intricate story line that is really about belief and what makes the Sun come up in the morning.
Only Death's granddaughter, Susan has the moxie and the common sense to sort out new anthropomorphic personifications (how about a god of hangovers, and a Verruca gnome) that rush into the belief vacuum created by the absence of Hogfather, thwart the evil Auditors, and foil the assassin who has broken into the Tooth Fairy's castle. Meanwhile her Granddad is delivering some very interesting presents to the little kiddies of Discworld.
On Gouger! On Tusker! On Rooter and Snouter!