Anghammarad (a golem), having tried its damnedest to save letters from a fire, is hit by cold water. Cold water + red-hot clay = explosion. When it ends up in the desert before the afterlife, Death informs it that the afterlife is on the other side.
Anghammarad: I Will Stay Here, Please. Death: Here? There's nothing to do here. Anghammarad: Yes, I Know. It Is Perfect. I Am Free.
Earlier, when the postmen are leery about letting golems join them, Anghammarad tells them the story of how he has been a messenger for nineteen thousand years, and Moist says to the postmen "And you are judging him?" They end up giving him the title of Extremely Senior Postman.
During the night, Moist is tormented by a vision of a farmer Driven to Suicide by his first scam. The next morning, he's greeted by an estatic couple. The letter he delivered the previous day was a marriage proposal and the lady said yes. The guy hands him a pack of wedding invitations, a handful of coins, and says "I'm so glad you're back in bussiness!"