I think that this is, hands down, my favourite piece of Discworld writing. It grinds on and slowly on like a horror show, with Weatherwax spite infecting everything around her until onions are tremblingly offered and social order is restored (with Granny on top, naturally). It is an absolutely perfect short story, and encapsulates in one glorious, petty power play everything I love about Granny Weatherwax, the best character in all of Pratchett.

And Nanny Ogg is good too.