'Now, see here, Vimes...' he began, and stopped. He glared at Dorfl.
'Is this if?' he said.
'If you mean the golem, this is /ii'm,' said Vimes. 'Constable Dorfl, your reverence.'
Dorfl touched his helmet respectfully. 'How May We Be Of Service?' he said.
'You've done it this time, Vimes!' said Ridcully, ignoring him. 'You've gone altogether too far by . half. You made this thing speak and it isn't even alive!' '
'We want it smashed!'
'Blasphemy!'
'People won't stand for it!'
Ridcully looked around at the other priests. 'I'm talking,' he said. He turned back to Vimes. 'This comes under the heading of gross profanity and the worship of idols - '
'I don't worship him. I'm just employing him,' said Vimes, beginning to enjoy himself. 'And he's far from idle.' He took a deep breath. 'And if it's gross profanity you're looking for - '
'Excuse Me,' said Dorfl.
'We're not listening to you! You're not even really alive!' said a priest.
Dorfl nodded. 'This Is Fundamentally True,' he said.
'See? He admits it!'
'I Suggest You Take Me And Smash Me And Grind The Bits Into Fragments And Pound The Fragments Into Powder And Mill Them Again To The Finest Dust There Can Be, And I Believe You Will Not Find A Single Atom of Life - '
'True! Let's do it!'
'However, In Order To Test This Fully, One Of You Must Volunteer To Undergo The Same Process.'
There was silence.
'That's not fair,' said a priest, after a while. 'All anyone has to do is bake up your dust again and you'll be alive...'
There was more silence.
Ridcully said, 'Is it only me, or are we on tricky theological ground here?'
There was more silence.
Another priest said, 'Is it true you've said you'll believe in any god whose existence can be proved by logical debate?'
'Yes.'
Vimes had a feeling about the immediate future and took a few steps away from Dorfl.
'But the gods plainly do exist,' said a priest.
'It Is Not Evident.'
A bolt of lightning lanced through the clouds and hit Dorfl's helmet. There was a sheet of flame and then a trickling noise. Dorfl's molten armour formed puddles around his white-hot feet.
'I Don't Call That Much Of An Argument,' said Dorfl calmly, from somewhere in the clouds of smoke.
'It's tended to carry the audience,' said Vimes. 'Up until now.'