'It wouldn't take trolls long to clear a way through, though,' said Ginger.
Victor thought about the - the Cthinema. And the first house, which had been going on for thousands of years. And all the people he knew, sitting there, for another thousand years. While overhead the stars changed.
'Of course, they might just be . . . well . . . somewhere else,' he lied.
'But they're not,' said Ginger. 'We both know that.'
Victor stared helplessly at the city of lights.
'Why us?' he said. 'Why is it happening to us?'
'Everything has to happen to someone,' said Ginger.
Victor shrugged. 'And you only get one chance,' he said. 'Right?'
'Just when you need to save the world, there's a world for you to save,' said Ginger.
'Yeah,' said Victor. 'Lucky old us.'
The two farmers peered in through the barn doors. Stacks of cabbage waited stolidly in the gloom.
'Told you it were cabbage,' said one of them. 'Knew it weren't chickens. Oi knows a cabbage when I sees one, and of believes what I sees.'
From far above came voices, getting closer:
'For gods' sake, man, can't you steer?'
'Not with you throwing your weight about, Archchancellor!'
'Where the hell are we? Can't see a thing in this fog!'
'I'll just see if I can point it - don't lean over like that! Don't lean over like that! I said don't lean-!'
The farmers dived sideways as the broomstick corkscrewed through the open doorway and disappeared among the ranks of cabbage. There was a distant, brassica'd squelch.
Eventually a muffled voice said: 'You leaned.'
'Nonsense. A fine mess you got me into. What is it?'
'Cabbages, Archchancellor.'
'Some kind of vegetable?'
'Yes.'
'Can't stand vegetables. Thins the blood.'
There was a pause. Then the farmers heard the other voice say: 'Well, I'm very sorry about that, you bloodthirsty overbearing tub of lard.'
There was another pause.
Then: 'Can I sack you, Bursar?'
'No, Archchancellor. I've got tenure.'
'In that case, help me out and let's go and find a drink.'
The farmers crept away.