A few of the Discworld gods, passing the time, as they do. L to R: Sessifet, goddess of the afternoon, Offler the Crocodile-Headed, Flatulus (God of the winds), Fate, Urika (Goddess of saunas, snow and theatrical performances for fewer than 120 people), Blind Io (chief of the Gods, and general Thundering), Libertina (Goddess of the sea, apple pie, certain types of ice cream and short lengths of string), The Lady (don’t even ask), Bibulous (god of wine and things on sticks), Patina (back , goddess of wisdom), Topaxi (front, god of certain mushrooms, and also of great ideas that you forgot to write down and will never remember again, and of people who tell other people that ‘dog’ is ‘god’ spelled backwards ant think this is in some way revelatory), Bast (back, god of things left on the doorstep or half-digested under the bed), and Nuggan (a local god, but also in charge of paperclips, correct things in the right place in small desk stationery sets, and unnecessary paperwork).

Offler the Crocodile looked up from the playing board which was, in fact, the world.

"All right, who doth he belong to?" he lisped. "We've got a clever one here."

There was a general craning of necks among the assembled deities, and then one put up his hand.

"And you are . . . ?" said Offler.

"The Almighty Nuggan. I'm worshipped in parts of Borogravia. The young man was raised in my faith."

"What do Nugganoteth believe in?"

"Er . . . me. Mostly me. And followers are forbidden to eat chocolate, ginger, mushrooms and garlic."

Several of the gods winced.

"When you prohibit you don't meth about, do you?" said Offler.

"No sense in forbidding broccoli, is there? That sort of approach is very old-fashioned," said Nuggan. He looked at the minstrel. "He's never been particularly bright up till now. Shall I smite him? There's bound to be some garlic in that stew, Mrs McGarry looks the type."

Offler hesitated. He was a very old god, who had arisen from steaming swamps in hot, dark lands. He had survived the rise and fall of more modern and certainly more beautiful gods by developing, for a god, a certain amount of wisdom.

Besides, Nuggan was one of the newer gods, all full of hellfire and self-importance and ambition . Offler was not bright, but he had some vague inkling that for long-term survival gods needed to offer their worshippers something more than a mere lack of thunderbolts. And he felt an ungodlike pang of sympathy for any human whose god banned chocolate and garlic. Anyway, Nuggan had an unpleasant moustache. No god had any business with a fussy little moustache like that.

"No," he said, shaking the dice box. "It'll add to the fun."