He turned to the explorers and pointed a finger at Leonard.
“Your penalty,” said Blind Io, “is this: you will paint the ceiling of the Temple of Small Gods in Ankh-Morpork. All of it. The decoration is in a terrible state.”
“But that’s not fair,” said Carrot. “He’s not a young man, and it took the great Angelino Tweebsly twenty years to paint that ceiling!”
“Then it will keep his mind occupied,” said Fate. “And prevent him thinking the wrong sort of thoughts. That is the correct punishment for those who usurp the powers of the gods! We will find work for idle hands to do.”
“Hmm,” said Leonard. “A considerable amount of scaffolding...”
“Vatht amounth,” said Offler, with satisfaction.
“And the nature of the painting?” said Leonard. “I would like to paint...”
“The entire world,” said Fate. “Nothing less.”
“Really? I was thinking of perhaps just a nice duck-egg blue with a few stars,” said Blind Io.
“The entire world,” said Leonard, staring off into some private vision. “With elephants, and dragons, and the swirl of clouds, and mighty forests, and the currents of the sea, and birds, and the great yellow veldts, and the pattern of storms, and the crests of mountains?”
“Er, yes,” said Blind Io.
“Without assistance,” said Fate.
“Even with the thcaffolding,” said Offler.
