Jean-Honore Fragonard l'aurore

Jean-Honore Fragonard l'auroreJean-Honore Fragonard Cephale et ProcrisEdgar Degas DancerWilliam Beard So You Wanna Get MarriedWilliam Beard Phantom Crane
Wouldn’t like to have their cleaning bill,’ said Poons.
The Lecturer in Recent Runes nudged the Chair heavily in the ribs, or at least at the point where the ribs were overlaid by the strata of fifty years of very good dinners.
‘Quiet!’ he hissed. ‘They’re coming!’
‘Who?’
‘Someone important, by the look of it.’
The Chair’s self‑importance that he appeared to be floating across the ground, bobbed towards the carriage door and opened it.
The crowd held its collective breath, except for a small part of it that hit surrounding people with its stick and muttered, ‘What’s happening? What’s going on? Why won’t anyone tell me what’s happening? I demand someone tell me, mm, what’s happening?’

The door stayed shut. Ginger was gripping the handle as if it was a lifeline.face creased in panic behind his false real beard. ‘You don’t think they’ve invited the Archchancellor, do you?’The wizards tried to shrink inside their robes, like upright turtles.In fact it was a far more impressive coach than any of the crumbling items in the University’s mews. The crowd surged forward against the line of trolls and city guards and stared expectantly at the carriage door; the very air hummed with anticipation.Mr Bezam, his chest so inflated with
‘There’s thousands of them out there!’ said Ginger. ‘I can’t go out there!’

Salvador Dali Galatea of the Spheres

Salvador Dali Galatea of the SpheresSalvador Dali GalarinaSalvador Dali Figure at a Window ISalvador Dali Corpus HypercubusVincent van Gogh View of Arles with Irises I
didn’t need any special mysterious animal instincts here. Perfectly generalized everyday instincts were enough to horrify him. There was something dreadful on the other side of the door.
She was , or the realization that today is the Monday which on Friday night was a comfortably long way off. A dog’s wet nose is not strictly speaking the worst of the bunch, but it has its own peculiar dreadfulness which connoisseurs of the ghastly and dog owners everywhere have come to know and dread. It’s like having a small piece of defrosting liver pressed lovingly against you. trying to let it out. He had to wake her up. Biting wasn’t really a good idea. His teeth weren’t that good these days. He doubted very much if barking would be any better. That left one alternative . . . The sand moved eerily under his paws; maybe it was dreaming of being rocks. The scrawny trees around the hollow were wrapped in sequoia fantasies. Even the air that curled around Gaspode’s bullet head moved sluggishly, although it’s anyone’s guess what the air dreams about. Gaspode trotted up to Ginger and pushed his nose against her leg. The universe contains any amount of horrible ways to be woken up, such as the noise of the mob breaking down the front door, the scream of fire engines

Andrea Mantegna Samson and Delilah

Andrea Mantegna Samson and DelilahAndrea Mantegna Adoration of the ShepherdsAndrea Mantegna Adoration of the MagiThomas Moran Entrance to the Grand Canal, VeniceJean Francois Millet The Walk to Work
metamorphoses beyond the reach of alchemists, and turned mere boring elements into pure light.
Over Ankh-Morpork, it just rained.
The senior wizards crowded around the elephant vase. It had been put back in the corridor on Ridcully’s strict peering closely, ‘is actually quite an old Ming vase.’
He waited expectantly.
‘Why’s it called Ming?’ said the Archchancellor, on cue.
The Bursar tapped the pot. It went ming.
‘And they spit lead balls at people, do they?’ said Ridcully. orders. ‘I remember Riktor,’ said the Dean. ‘Skinny man. Bit of a one-track mind. But clever.’ ‘Heh, heh. I remember his mouse counter,’ said Windle Poons, from his ancient wheelchair. ‘Used to count mice.’ ‘The pot itself is quite–’ the Bursar began, and then said, ‘What d’you mean, count mice? They were fed into it on a little belt or something?’ ‘Oh, no. You just wound it up, y’see, and it sat there whirring away, counting all the mice in the building, mm, and these little wheels with numbers on them came up.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Mm? I s’pose he just wanted to count mice.’ The Bursar shrugged. ‘This pot’, he said,

Johannes Vermeer Young Woman with a Water Jug

Johannes Vermeer Young Woman with a Water JugJohannes Vermeer The ProcuressJohannes Vermeer Diana and her CompanionsJohannes Vermeer Christ in the House of Mary and MarthaUnknown Artist warmth by volk
Something emerged. Something invisible. Something joyful and selfish and marvellous. Something as intangible as an idea, which is exactly what it was. A wild idea.
It was old
There’s a saying that all roads lead to Ankh-Morpork, greatest of Discworld cities.
At least, there’s a saying that there’s a saying that all roads lead to Ankh-Morpork.
And it’s wrong. All roads lead away from Ankh-Morpork, but sometimes people just walk along them the wrong way. in a way not measurable by any calendar known to Man and what it had, right now, was memories and needs. It remembered life, in other times and other universes. It needed people. It rose against the stars, changing shape, coiling like smoke. There were lights on the horizon. It liked lights. It regarded them for a few seconds and then, like an invisible arrow, extended itself towards the city and sped away. It liked action, too . . . And several weeks went past.

Edvard Munch Puberty 1894

Edvard Munch Puberty 1894Unknown Artist Heighton After HoursUnknown Artist Brent Lynch Evening LoungeUnknown Artist Paris Eiffel TowerPaul Klee Zitronen
we'll leap out and put them to the sword. Or put the sword to them. One or the other. And then we'll sack the city, bum the walls and sow the ground with salt. You remember, lad, I showed you on Friday.'
'Oh.'
Moisture dripped from a score of brows. Several of the men were trying to compose a letter home, dragging styli across wax that was close to melting.
'And then what will happen, sergeant?'
'Why, lad, then we'll go home heroes.'
'Oh.'
The older soldiers sat stolidly looking at the wooden walls. Autocue shifted uneasily, still worried about something.
'My mum said to come back with my shield or on it, sergeant,' he said.
'Jolly good, lad. That's the spirit.'
'We will be all right, though. Won't we, sergeant?'
The -man band.
Ptaclusp nodded, unable to speak. He had had enough shocks for one day.
'Well, switch it off. Switch it off now.'
IIb leaned over.sergeant stared into the fetid darkness. After a while, someone started to play the harmonica. Ptaclusp half-turned his head from the scene and a voice by his ear said, 'You're the pyramid builder, aren't you?' Another figure had joined them in their bolthole, one who was black-clad and moved in a way that made a cat's tread sound like a one
'Who're you?' he said.
'My name is Teppic.'
'What, like the king?'

William Blake Jacob's Ladder

William Blake Jacob's LadderVincent van Gogh The Olive TreesVincent van Gogh Fishing in SpringUnknown Artist Ranson Apple Tree with Red FruitUnknown Artist Spring is in the Air
that will be the standard model, shall we say, O water in the desert?'
Teppic looked at Dios, who was standing and glaring at nothing now, staring the bulldogs of Entropy into submission bythe greatest of monuments is erected for your father,' said Dios smoothly. This was a contest, Teppic knew, and he didn't know the rules or how to play and he was going to lose.
'It is? Oh. Yes. Yes. I suppose it is, really. Yes.'
'A pyramid unequalled along the Djel,' said Dios. 'That is the command of the king. It is only right and willpower alone. 'I think something larger,' he ventured hopelessly. 'That's the Executive,' said Ptaclusp. 'Very exclusive, O base of the eternal column. Last you a perpetuality. Also our special offer this aeon is various measurements of paracosmic significance built into the very fabric at no extra cost.' He gave Teppic an expectant look. 'Yes. Yes. That will be fine,' said Teppic. Dios took a deep breath. 'The king requires far more than that,' be said. 'I do?' said Teppic, doubtfully. 'Indeed, sire. It is your express wish that

Cao Yong Freedom

Cao Yong FreedomCao Yong Day of LoveCao Yong cao yong Red UmbrellaDiego Rivera View of ToledoDiego Rivera Motherhood Angelina and the Child Diego
duke made an unsuccessful attempt to float through a wall, gave up, and opened a door out on to a crumbling section of the battlements. The storm had died away a bit, and a thin rind of moon lurked behind the clouds like anon-existent particles of glowing metal on the edge of his scythe blade, than that he was waist-deep in the foaming, rock-toothed waters in the depths of Lancre gorge, his calcareous gaze sweeping downwards and stopping abruptly at a point where the torrent ran a few tre ticket tout for eternity.Death stalked through the wall behind him.'Well then,' said the duke, 'if I'm not dead, why are you here?'He jumped up on to the wall and flapped his sheet.WAITING.'Wait forever, bone face!' said the duke triumphantly. 'I shall hover in the twilight world, I shall find some chains to shake, I shall—'He stepped backwards, lost his balance, landed heavily on the wall and slid. For a moment the remnant of his right hand scrabbled ineffectually at the stonework, and then it vanished.Death is obviously potentially everywhere at the same time, and in one sense it is no more true to say that he was on the battlements, picking vaguely at acherous inches over a bed of angular pebbles.

Andy Warhol One Blue Pussy

Andy Warhol One Blue PussyAndy Warhol MarilynAndy Warhol Flowers Red 1964Andy Warhol Fiesta PigAndy Warhol dollar sign black and yellow on red
'Fifteen years into the future?'
'Yes.'
Nanny looked at Granny's broomstick. It was a well-made thing, built to last, apart from the occasional starting problem. But there were limits.
'You'll here on the offchance that a wolf was lying up for the day.
'I thought cats could find their own way home,' the Fool muttered.
He cursed himself under his breath. It would have been easy to take this wretched creature back to Nanny Ogg's house, which was only a few streets away, almost in the shadow of the castle. But then never do it,' she said. 'Not around the whole kingdom in that. That's all the way up to Powderknife and down to Drumlin's Fell. You just couldn't carry enough magic.''I've thought of that,' said Granny.She beamed again. It was terrifying.She explained the plan. It was dreadful.A minute later the moor was deserted, as the witches hurried to their tasks. It was silent for a while, apart from the squeak of bats and the occasional rustle of the wind in the heather.Then there was a bubbling from the nearby peat bog. Very slowly, crowned with a thicket of sphagnum moss, the standing stone surfaced and peered around the landscape with an air of deep distrust. Greebo was really enjoying this. At first he thought his new friend was taking him to Magrat's cottage, but for some reason he'd wandered off the path in the dark and was taking a stroll in the forest. In one of the more interesting bits, Greebo had always felt. It was a hummocky area, rich in hidden potholes and small, intense swamps, full of mist even in fine weather. Greebo often came up

Les Vins Rouges

Les Vins RougesUnknown Artist Les Vins BlancsGeorge Stubbs Horse Attacked by a LionSalvador Dali The Land of Milk and HoneyCaravaggio Sick Bacchus
'Thank you,' said Magrat sweetly. 'Would you like an apple?'
'No, thanks. I haven't finished the one the other witch gave me.' His eyes rolled. 'Not a witch. Not a witch, an apple Great Hall, empty and deserted at this time of day except for a couple of guards who were playing dice. They wore the tabards of Felmet's own personal bodyguard, and stopped their game as soon as she appeared.
'Well, well,' said one, leering. 'Come to keep us company have you, my
'I was looking for the dungeons,' said Magrat, to whom the words 'sexual harassment' were a mere collection of syllables.seller An apple seller. She ought to know.''How long ago was this?''Just a few minutes . . .'Granny Weatherwax was not lost. She wasn't the kind of person who ever became lost. It was just that, at the moment, while she knew exactly where SHE was, she didn't know the position of anywhere else. Currently she had arrived in the kitchens again, precipitating a breakdown in the cook, who was trying to roast some celery. The fact that several people had tried to buy apples from her wasn't improving her temper.Magrat found her way to the

John William Waterhouse The Siren

John William Waterhouse The SirenJohn William Waterhouse The Lady ClareJohn William Waterhouse FloraJohn William Waterhouse Circe offering the Cup to UlyssesJohn William Waterhouse Boreas
NO PREMONITIONS? STRANGE DREAMS? MAD OLD SOOTHSAYERS SHOUTING THINGS AT YOU IN THE STREET?
'About what? Dying?'
NO, I SUPPOSE NOT. IT WOULD BE TOO MUCH TO EXPECT, said Death sourly. THEY LEAVE IT ALL TO ME.
'Who do?' said.
'No.'
THEN I SHOULDN'T BOTHER, IF I WERE YOU. Death pulled an hour-glass from the recesses of his dark robe and inspected it closely.
AND NOW I REALLY MUST BE GOING, he said. He turnedsaid Verence, mystified.FATE. DESTINY. ALL THE REST OF THEM. Death laid a hand on the king's shoulder. THE FACT IS, I'M AFRAID, YOU'RE DUE TO BECOME A GHOST.'Oh.' He looked down at his . . . body, which seemed solid enough. Then someone walked through him.DON'T LET IT UPSET YOU.Verence watched his own stiff corpse being carried reverentially from the hall.'I'll try,' he said.GOOD MAN.'I don't think I will be up to all that business with the white sheets and the chains, though,' he said. 'Do I have to walk around moaning and screaming?'Death shrugged. DO YOU WANT TO? he

Andy Warhol Basket of Flowers

Andy Warhol Basket of FlowersNicolas De Stael Sky in HonfleurNicolas De Stael Noon Landscape
circle, they'd simply been discouraged from growing there. Or had moved away.
Candlelight spilled from one downstairs window, making a pale orange pool on the snow.
Binky touched by the door. It had a note attached, written in big, slightly shaky capitals: FOR THEE HORS.
It would have worried Mort if he'd let it. Someone was expecting him. He'd learned in recent days, though, that rather than drown in uncertainty it was best to surf right over the top of it. Anyway, Binky wasn't worried by moral scruples and bit straight in.down smoothly and trotted across the freezing crust without sinking. He left no hoofprints, of course.Mort dismounted and walked towards the door, muttering to himself and making experimental sweeps with the scythe.The cottage roof had been built with wide eaves, to shed snow and cover the logpile. No dweller in the high Ramtops would dream of starting a winter without a logpile on three sides of the house. But there wasn't a logpile here, even though spring was still a long way off.There was, however, a bundle of hay in a net

Thomas Kinkade Dawson

Thomas Kinkade DawsonThomas Kinkade CourageThomas Kinkade City by the Bay
the scythe.
The cottage roof had been built with wide eaves, to shed snow and cover the logpile. No dweller in the high Ramtops would So he lifted the thumb latch and pushed at the door. It swung inwards quite easily, without a creak.
There was a low-ceilinged kitchen, its beams at trepanning height for Mort. The light from the solitary candle glinted off crockery on a long dresser and flagstones that had been scrubbed and polished into iridescence. The fire in the cave-like inglenook didn't add much light, because dream of starting a winter without a logpile on three sides of the house. But there wasn't a logpile here, even though spring was still a long way off.There was, however, a bundle of hay in a net by the door. It had a note attached, written in big, slightly shaky capitals: FOR THEE HORS.It would have worried Mort if he'd let it. Someone was expecting him. He'd learned in recent days, though, that rather than drown in uncertainty it was best to surf right over the top of it. Anyway, Binky wasn't worried by moral scruples and bit straight in.It did leave the problem of whether to knock. Somehow, it didn't seem appropriate. Supposing no-one answered, or told him to go away?

Gustav Klimt Hope

Gustav Klimt HopePierre-Auguste Cot The StormClaude Monet Impression Sunrise
Death waved a bony hand. There was a wash of purple light, a sort of visible 'pop', and Lezek unfroze. Above his head the clockwork automatons got on with the job of proclaiming midnight, as Time was allowed to come creeping back.
Lezek blinked.
'Didn't see you there for a minute,' he said. 'Sorry – mind must have been elsewhere.'
I WAS OFFERING YOUR BOY A POSITION, Said Death. I TRUST THAT MEETS WITH YOUR APPROVAL?
'What was your job again?' said Lezek, talking to a black-robed skeleton without showing even a flicker of surpriseTHE SEA TO THE HEIGHTS WHERE EVEN THE EAGLE MAY NOT GO, said Death.
'That's fair enough,' nodded Lezek. 'Well, I —'
'Dad —' said Mort, pulling at his father's coat..I USHER SOULS INTO THE NEXT WORLD, Said Death.'Ah,' said BEEN GOING FOR SOME TIME, YES, said Death.'Good. Good. Never really thought of it as a job for Mort, you know, but it's good work, good work, always very reliable. What's your name?'DEATH.'Dad —' said Mort urgently.'Can't say I recognise the firm,' said Lezek. 'Where are you based exactly?'FROM THE UTTERMOST DEPTHS OF

Paul Gauguin Spirit of the Dead Watching

Paul Gauguin Spirit of the Dead WatchingPaul Gauguin Hail MaryHenri Matisse Woman with a Hat
(Esk could get to grips with this. She had half-suspected it ever since she cleaned out the senior wizards' lavatory, or ratherwhile the staff got on with the job while Esk examined the urinals and, with the assistance of some half-remembered details of her brothers in the tin bath to Esk to be getting excited at some very silly sentences. Then the chalk would start again, curving across the darkness like a comet, trailing its dust behind it.
The light was fading out of the sky outside. As the room grew more gloomy the chalked words glowed and the blackboard appeared to Esk to be not so much dark as simply not there at all, but just a square hole cut out of the world.Theory of comparative anatomy. The senior wizards' lavatory was a magical place, with real running water and interesting tiles and, most importantly, two big silver mirrors fixed to opposite walls so that someone looking into one could see themselves repeated again and again until the image was too small to see. It was Esk's first introduction to the idea of infinity. More to the point, she had a suspicion that one of the mirror Esks, right on the edge of sight, was waving at her.) There was something disturbing about the phrases Simon used. Half the time he seemed to be saying that the world was about as real as a soap bubble, or a dream. The chalk shrieked its way across the board behind

Gustav Klimt The Fulfillment (detail I)

Gustav Klimt The Fulfillment (detail I)Gustav Klimt The Embrace (detail_ square)Gustav Klimt Schloss Kammer Am Attersee II
professions paid goblins to hit small ceremonial anvils, just to maintain the correct dwarvish image.
The broomstick lay between two trestles. Granny Weatherwax sat on a rock outcrop while a dwarf half her height, wearing an apron that was a mass of pockets, walked around the broom and occasionally poked it.
Eventually he kicked the bristles and gave a long intake of breath, a sort of reverse whistle, which is the secret sign "As for repair," he said, "well, I don't know about repair. Rebuild, maybe. Of course, it's hard to get the bristles these days even if you can find people to do the proper binding, and the spells need -"
"I don't want it rebuilt, I just want it to work properly," said Granny.
"It's an early model, you see," the dwarf plugged on. "Very tricky, those early models. You can't get the wood -"of craftsmen across the universe and means that something expensive is about to happen. "Weellll," he said. "I could get the apprentices in to look at this, I could. It's an education in itself. And you say it actually managed to get airborne?" "It flew like a bird," said Granny. The dwarf lit a pipe. "I should very much like to see that bird," he said reflectively. "I should imagine it's quite something to watch, a bird like that." "Yes, but can you repair it?" said Granny. "I'm in a hurry."The dwarf sat down, slowly and deliberately.

John William Waterhouse Waterhouse Narcissus

John William Waterhouse Waterhouse NarcissusJohn William Waterhouse The Lady of ShalottJohn William Waterhouse waterhouse Ophelia
Granny looked down at Esk's silent form. The girl was light enough, but it was a the afternoon was dwindling.
"Drat," she said, with no particular emphasis. She stood up, brushed herself down and, with a grunt of effort, hauled Esk's inert body over her shoulder.
High in the crystal sunset air above the mountains the eagle Esk sought more height, drunk with the sheer vitality of flight.
On the candle had long burned down and Esk was still sleeping the shallow, unwakable sleep of the Borrower.
When she took the goats out to their paddock she looked intently at the sky.
Noon came, and gradually the light drained out of another day. She paced the floor of the kitchen the way a hungry bear. Granny's back was giving her gyp, and she was in no mood to be growled at. She muttered a few words under her breath and the bear, to its brief amazement, walked heavily into a tree and didn't regain consciousness for several hours. When she reached the cottage Granny put Esk's body to bed and drew up the fire. She brought the goats in and milked them, and finished the chores of the evening. She made sure all the windows were open and, when it began to grow dark, lit a lantern and put it on the windowsill. Granny Weatherwax didn't sleep more than a few hours a night, as a rule, and woke again at midnight. The room hadn't changed, although the lantern had its own little solar system of very stupid moths. When she woke again at dawn

Leroy Neiman Amphitheatre at Rivera

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know this thing, trust me. Anyway, would you rather be left with all these star people? They might be interested in having a talk with you.'
Cohen sidled over to the Luggage, and then flung himself astride it. It took no notice.
'Hurry up,' he said. 'I think it's going to go.'
Lackjaw shrugged, and climbed on gingerly behind Cohen.
'Oh?' he said, 'and how does it g —'

Ankh-Morpork!
Pearl of cities!
This is not a completely accurate description, of course – it was not round and shiny – but even its worst enemies to enjoy it on a really good day. They puff out their cheeks and slap their chests and comment cheerfully on its little distinctive nuances. They have even put up a statue to it, to commemorate the time when the troops of a rival state tried to invade by stealth one dark night and managed to get to the top of the walls before, to their horror, their nose plugs gave out. Rich

Francois Boucher Adoration of the Shepherds

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eyes focused on them. His lips moved soundlessly.
'That was a really strange . . . dream,' he said. 'What's this place? Why am I here?'
'Well,' said Cohen, 'sthe Creator of the Univershe took a handful of clay and —'
'No, I mean here,' said Twoflower. 'Is that you, Rincewind?'
'Yes,' said Rincewind, giving it the benefit of the doubt.
'There was this . . . a clock that . . . and these people who . . .' said Twoflower. He shook his head. 'Why does everything smell of horses?'
'You've been ill,' said Rincewind. 'Hallucinating.'
'Yes . . . I .suppose I was.' Twoflower looked down at his chest. 'But in that case, why have I—' Rincewind jumped to his feet.'Sorry, very close in here, got to have a breath of fresh air,' he said. He removed the picture box's strap from Twoflower's neck, and dashed for the tent flap.'I didn't notice that when he came in,' said Bethan. Cohen shrugged.Rincewind managed to get a few yards from the yurt efore the ratchet of the picture box began to click. Very slowly, the box extruded the last picture that the imp had taken.Rincewind snatched at it.What it showed would have been quite horrible even in broad daylight. By freezing starlight, tinted red with the fires of the evil new star, it was a lot worse
'No,' said Rincewind softly. 'No, it wasn't like that, there was a house, and this girl, and . . .'
'You see what you see and I paint what I see,' said the imp from its hatch. 'What I see is real. I was bred for it. I only see what's really there.'

Albert Bierstadt A Quiet lake

Albert Bierstadt A Quiet lakeFabian Perez Waiting for the romance to comeFabian Perez Waiting For the Romance to Come Back IIFabian Perez Venice
him. Daft old—'
'I heard that!' snapped Spold, 'You young people—' He stopped. Death was looking at him thoughtfully, as if he was trying to remember his face.
'Look,' said Galder, 'just repeat that bit again, will you? The Disc will be what?'
DESTROYED, said Death. CAN I GO NOW? I LEFT MY DRINK.
'Hang on,' said Galder hurriedly. 'By Cheliliki and Orizone and so forth, what do you mean, destroyed?'
IT'S AN ANCIENT PROPHECY WRITTEN ON THE INNER WALLS OF THE GREAT PYRAMID OF TSORT. THE WORD DESTROYED SEEMS QUITE SELF-EXPLANATORY TO ME.
'That's all you can tell us?'
YES.
'But Galder nodded distractedly. He had been thinking wistfully of the banishment ritual, which started 'Begone, foul shade' and had some rather impressive passages which he had been practising, but somehow he couldn't work up any enthusiasm.
'Oh, yes,' he said. Thank you, yes.' And then, because it's as wellHogswatchnight is only two months away!'YES.'At least you can tell us where Rincewind is now!' Death shrugged. It was a gesture he was particularly well built for.THE FOREST OF SKUND, RIMWARDS OF THE RAMTOP MOUNTAINS.What is he doing there?'FEELING VERY SORRY FOR HIMSELF.'Oh.'NOW MAY I GO?

Talantbek Chekirov Tender Passion

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tongues, of course," he added.
"Are you awake?"
Twoflower snored on. Rincewind jabbed him viciously in the ribs.
"I said, are you awake?" he snarled.
". "This is a rough universe."
He rummaged through the piles around the walls and selected a heavy, wavy-bladed scimitar that had probably been some pirate's pride and joy. It looked the sort of weapon that relied as much on its weight as its edge to cause damage. He raised it awkwardly.Scrdfngh...""We've got to get out of here before this salvage fleet comes!" The dishwater light of dawn oozed through the shack's one window, slopping across the piles of salvaged boxes and bundles that were strewn around the interior. Twoflower grunted again and tried to burrow into the pile of furs and blankets that Tethis had given them."Look, there's all kinds of weapons and stuff in here," said Rincewind. "He's gone out somewhere. When he comes back we could overpower him and- and- well, then we can think of something. How about it?""That doesn't sound like a very good idea," said Twoflower. "Anyhow, it's a bit ungracious isn't it?""Tough buns," snapped Rincewind