‘Speaking as a lawyer,’ said Mr Slant of the Guild of Lawyers, ‘it is clear that the first ever recorded heroic deed to which the message refers was an act of theft from the rightful owners. The legends of many different cultures testify to this.’

‘Was it something you could actually steal?’ said Ridcully.

‘Manifestly yes,’ said the lawyer. ‘Theft is central to the legend. Fire was stolen from the gods.’

‘This is not currently the issue,’ said Lord Vetinari. ‘The issue, gentlemen, is that Cohen the Barbarian is climbing the mountain on which the gods live. And we cannot stop him. And he intends to return fire to the gods. Fire, in this case, in the shape of… let me see—’

Ponder Stibbons looked up from his notebooks, where he had been scribbling. ‘A fifty-pound keg of Agatean Thunder Clay,’ he said. ‘I'm amazed their wizards let him have it.’

‘He was… indeed. I assume he still is the Emperor,’ said Lord Vetinari. ‘So I would imagine that when the supreme ruler of your continent asks you for something, it is not the time for a prudent man to ask for a docket signed by Mr Jenkins of Requisitions.’

‘Thunder Clay is terribly powerful stuff,’ said Ridcully. ‘But it needs a special detonator. You have to smash a jar of acid inside the mixture. The acid soaks into it, and then – kablooie, I believe the term is.’

‘Unfortunately the prudent man also saw fit to give one of these to Cohen,’ said Lord Vetinari. ‘And if the resulting kablooie takes place atop the mountain, which is the hub of the world's magic field, it will, as I understand it, result in the field collapsing for… remind me, Mister Stibbons?’

‘About two years,’ he said.

‘Really? Well, we can do without magic for a couple of years, can't we?’ said Mr Slant, managing to suggest that this would be a jolly good thing, too.

‘With respect,’ said Ponder, without respect, ‘we cannot. The seas will run dry. The sun will burn out and crash. The elephants and the turtle may cease to exist altogether.’