Book mash!
1) Grab yourself three books:
a) The Light Fantastic (Pratchett)
b) English Renaissance Drama (Ed. Bevington)
c) Middlemarch (Eliot)
2) Turn to the following pages: page 100 of book 1, page 200 of book 2, and page 300 of book 3.
Done!
3) Grab the fifth, sixth, and seventh sentences on each page and repost them.
a) “Shouldn’t we help?”
“I’m sure we’d only get in the way,” said Rincewind hurriedly. “You know what it’s like to have people looking over your shoulder when you’re busy.”
b) “Theridamas, my friend, take here my hand,
Which is as much as if I swore by heaven
And called the gods to witness of my vow:
Thus shall my heart be still combined with thine
Until our bodies turn to elements
And both our souls aspire celestial thrones.
Techelles and Casane, welcome him.”
“Welcome, renowned Persian, to us all!”
c) Even drawing Dorothea into use in his study, according to his own intention before marriage, was an effort which he was always tempted to defer, and but for her pleading insistance it might never have begun. But she had succeeded in making it a matter of course that she should take her place at an early hour in the library and have work either of reading aloud or copying assigned her. The work had been easier to define because Mr. Casaubon had adopted an immediate intention: there was to be a new parergon, a small monograph on some lately traced indications concerning the Egyptian mysteries whereby certain assertations of Warburton’s could be corrected.
4) Mash them into one text.
Rincewind and Mr. Casaubon sat under an apple tree, contemplating the problem of Dorothea’s continued insistence on being near her husband while he worked, and on aiding him if possible. Casaubon was trying to prepare a monograph impeaching another scholar’s ideas, but Dorothea was constantly getting in his way. Suddenly, up strode Warburton, the very man whose scholarship Mr. Casaubon had just been preparing to publicly question.
“Theridamas, my friend, take here my hand,” boomed Warburton, thrusting his hand out in a genial fashion, “Which is as much as if I swore by heaven, and called the gods to witness to my vow!”
“I beg your pardon?” said Rincewind.
Mr. Casaubon peered up at Warburton. “My friend,” he remarked, “I fear that the summer sun, in conjunction with the study of those fascinating Egyptian mysteries on which you write, has addled you in the mind.”
Warburton paid him no heed. He sat down next to the two men.
“Techelles! Casane! Welcome him!”
“Welcome who?” asked Rincewind.
“No matter,” said Mr. Casaubon, “the fit will surely leave him shortly. He becomes mad when he studies with too great vigour.”
“I shall welcome the renowned Persian,” beamed Warburton, “and shall my heart be joined with thine until our bodies turn to elements, and both our souls aspire to celestial thrones!”
Warburton stood up, espying someone walking in the distance. “There he is,” he cried. “I must go and make him welcome!” He ran off.
“I fear he is going to accost that stranger,” remarked Casaubon. “Shouldn’t we help?”
“I’m sure we’d only get in the way,” said Rincewind hurriedly. “You know what it’s like to have people looking over your shoulder when you’re busy.”
The End.