`I don't think we want to do that, do we?' said Ridcully.

`It might be considered impolite,' agreed the Chair of Indefinite Studies.

`Exactly how big would a Great Big Thing be?' said the Senior Wrangler.

`The same size as the universe, sir,' said Ponder. `Every particle of the universe would be modelled within it, in fact.'

`Quite big, then ...'

`Yes, Sir.'

`And quite hard to find room for, I should imagine.'

`Undoubtedly, sir,' said Ponder, who had long ago given up trying to explain Big Magic to the rest of the senior faculty.

`Very well, then,' said Archchancellor Ridcully. `Thank you for your report, Mister Stibbons.' He sniffed. `Sounds fascinatin'. And the next item: Any Other Business.' He glared around the table. `And since there is no other busi-'

`Er ...

This was a bad word at this point. Ridcully did not like committee business. He certainly did not like any other business.

`Well, Rincewind?' he said, glaring down the length of the table.

`Um ...' said Rincewind. `I think that's Professor Rincewind, Sir?'

`Very well, professor,' said Ridcully. `Come on, it's past time for Early Tea.'

`The world's gone wrong, Archchancellor.'

As one wizard, everyone looked out at what could be seen of the world through Archchancellor Sloman Discovering the Special Theory of Slood.

`Don't be a fool, man,' said Ridcully. `The sun's shining! It's a nice day!'

`Not this world, sir,' said Rincewind. `The other one.'

`What other one?' said the Archchancellor, and then his expression changed.

`Not-' he began.

`Yes, sir,' said Rincewind. `That one. It's gone wrong. Again.' Every organisation needs someone to do those jobs it doesn't want to do or secretly thinks don't need doing. Rincewind had nineteen of them now, including Health and Safety Officer. [1]