Moist von Lipwig, swindler and con man, is scheduled to hang. But Lord Vetinari has other plans--Lipwig is put in charge of Ankh-Morpork's moribund postal system.
What ensues is Pratchett at his wildest best. Lipwig is an engaging rascal whose astute knowledge of human (and non-human) nature allows him to win through the most trying situations. Bureaucracy hasn't a chance.In the second book of what is, alas, only a trilogy, Lipwig is tasked with reviving a failing bank and shoring up an all but non-existent monetary system. He's in charge of the bank--and of its main shareholder who happens to be a lapdog named Mr. Fusspot.There is a golem called Gladys who is taking hints from ladies'magazines, several undead, a necromancer, greedy minor shareholders, and Pratchett's usual entertaining citizens of Ankh-Morpork. And there is a lot of truth in all this silliness, astute comments on how money works.“If you were shipwrecked on a desert island, what would you prefer, a bag of potatoes or a bag of gold?” “Yes, but a desert island isn’t Ankh-Morpork!” “And that proves gold is only valuable because we agree it is, right? It’s just a dream. But a potato is always worth a potato, anywhere. Add a knob of butter and a pinch of salt and you’ve got a meal, anywhere. Bury gold in the ground and you’ll be worrying about thieves forever. Bury a potato and in due season you could be looking at a dividend of a thousand percent.”Great fun! 
