'Oh, this,' said the Lecturer in Recent Runes, as if he'd only just at that moment noticed the eight-pound lump hammer he'd been holding. 'My word... it's a hammer, isn't it? My word. A hammer. I suppose I must just have... picked it up somewhere. You know. To keep the place tidy.'

'And I can't help noticing,' said Ridcully, 'that the Dean seems to be tryin' to conceal a battle-axe about his person.'

There was a musical twang from the rear of the Chair of Indefinite Studies.

'And that sounded like a saw to me,' said Ridcully. 'Is there anyone here not concealin' some kind of implement? Right. Would anyone care to explain what the hell you think you're doin'?'

'Hah, you don't know what it was like,' muttered the Dean, not meeting the Archchancellor's eye. 'A man daren't turn his back for five minutes in those days. You'd hear the patter of those damn feet and—'

Ridcully ignored him. He put an arm around Rincewind's bony shoulders and led the way towards the Great Hall.

'Well, now, Rincewind,' he said. 'They tell me you're no good at magic.'

'That's right.'

'Never passed any exams or anything?'

'None, I'm afraid.'

'But everyone calls you Rincewind the wizard.'

Rincewind looked at his feet. 'Well, I kind of worked here as sort of deputy Librarian—'

'—an ape's number two—' said the Dean.

'—and, you know, did odd jobs and things and kind of, you know, helped out—'

'I say, did anyone notice that? An ape's number two? Rather clever, I thought.'

'But you have never, in fact, actually been entitled to call yourself a wizard?' said Ridcully.

'Not technically, I suppose...'

'I see. That is a problem.'

'I've got this hat with the word "Wizzard" on it,' said Rincewind hopefully.