The press comes to Ankh-Morpork. Chaos, of course, ensues. William de Worde, a ne’er do well noble who is ashamed of his noble heritage, has until now made his living by painstakingly collecting news and sending off a sort of newsletter to foreign peoples of import who are willing to pay him for it. Then some dwarfs roll into Ankh-Morpork with something called a printing press, and suddenly, what if they printed a bunch of them and sold them for like, fifty cents? And maybe […]