Oh Raaaaaaaaaandyyyyyyyyyy…
Arch-swindler Moist Van Lipwig never believed his confidence crimes were hanging offenses — until he found himself with a noose tightly around his neck, dropping through a trapdoor, and falling into . . . a government job?
By all rights, Moist should have met his maker. Instead, it’s Lord Vetinari, supreme ruler of Ankh-Morpork, who promptly offers him a job as Postmaster.
— Going Postal: A Novel of Discworld, by Terry Pratchett.