disclaimer: I don't own the Discworld, nor the Auditors. But then, you're a clever reader -- you've deducted that already and skipped the disclaimer, haven't you?
notes: Because of inane hatred for the asterisk mark, which I have yet to learn to get around, the Pratchett-style footnotes are arranged with numbers in parentheses. It's all terribly tragic. Enjoy the fic.
where it started
At the beginning of the universe, things exploded. (1)
Gods like an explosion as much as anyone else, except - perhaps - men, and the obsession of mankind with explosions is a mystery yet unsolved. Give a man a fire, as the saying runs, and he'll burn something to rubble sooner or later.
In any case, eventually out of the explosions blossomed huge, dense cubes. And, because work done without someone to take credit inevitably attracts them, a god looked upon the mute spread of these shapes throughout existence, and he saw that it was good. (2)
As it spun on, huge and blue and endless, however, the corners started to wear off of the god's wondrous creation, until it became a sphere. Now, having consumed a fair quantity of matter in order to shape it to his own devising, the god rather resembled this planet. And at the sight he did wax muchly wroth, and great was his rage.
Quoth the god unto the universe: "What, are you trying to tell me I look fat in this robe?"
Seeing that the universe did not reply, he did take it upon himself to modify the planet. Broader did he make it, and much less great. And he did look upon it, and it did remind him of another shape - one that he was no longer permitted to dine upon - and the god was dissatisfied. (3)
Quoth the god unto the universe a second time: "Oy, I'm not on a seafood diet, you know! I can't just see food and eat it!" (4)
Thus did he descend amongst his fellow gods, and hear them discussing those wondrous creatures known as "turtles" and "elephants". Quoth the god to himself: "That's bloody brilliant. That's bl-- why didn't I come up with that? ... Perhaps I did come up with that. And I just forgot about it. And they nicked it." And so did the blackness of space become a great sea for his chosen ones, great A'Tuin and her elephants.
Looking upon his creation, the god saw that it no longer resembled food of any kind. (5) And the god was pleased with his work. (6)
Then, as if an alarm had gone off elsewhere in another universe, gray shapes faded in. They were utterly formless, like a cloak hanging limply on a cloakrack. (7) They whirled around the god in a tight circle, crowding dangerously close.
One said to a faraway star, This sun is emitting .40285 degrees too much heat for the average. It should be corrected.
Faced with the choice of glowing under an Auditor's stare for all eternity or death, the distant sun exploded. The god watched mutely as its shrapnel disappeared gradually, consumed by other heavenly bodies.
Quoth the god unto the Auditors: "Did you see that? Nothing is ever destroyed in this universe. O myself, I am a total genius."
One said, This planet is of irregular shape.
Quoth the god unto the Auditors a second time: "No, you are of irregular shape. I like this planet. It's brilliant."
One said, That statement is made with insufficient information. Let the record show that this is your first planet. Let the record acknowledge that there may be sentimental damage to your definition of 'brilliant'.
One said, Also, your rocks are deficient.
Quoth the god unto the Auditors a third time, waxing muchly wroth: "What do you know-- have you been talking to my wife?"
One said, We meant your meteroids. They're in absolutely terrible condition. Terrible to behold. It added, I don't need to know anything about your sordid love life, anyway.
One said, Did you say I?
One said, I would never.
One said, But you just did. You said it again.
One said, Wait. What. But I-- oh bugger.
And it was blown to dust, which vanished in the flare of a passing sun, possibly in minor vengeance of what it had done to an earlier star.
One said, returning its attention to the god, And now, to discuss your tax rates...
But the god had made his mighty retreat in the commotion of an Auditor's unmaking, and he had vanished.
One said, turning its faceless cloak toward the disc spinning upon the backs of the elephants, It is a creation of ultimate tastelessness. All that color.
(From beyond came the great shout: "It is an aesthetic statement! Do not judge me! I am an artiste!")
One said, How can they do that without wheels?
One said, Let it be noted that this universe warrants further study. When we have completed our progress reports upon other universes, we shall return.
One said ominously, Yes. We shall be back.
One by one, they vanished away, leaving nothing where they had been.
Little A'Tuin cocked a young eye at where they had been, shook her great head in a movement that spread tremors throughout the disc, and swam on... into eternal space.
end
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Footnotes:
(1) A universe, rather. To assume that there is merely a single universe is an egocentrism inconceivable of any species possessed of the least quantity of intelligence and/or modesty.
(2) "Okay," he said in later interviews, "so maybe all that blue floating around when the sun and everything else was gray or gold was a bit tacky. But I felt that the universe could really do with a touch of color, you know? I'm an artiste! Don't mock my sensibilities! Gods have feelings too, you know!"
(3) Later historians have disputed as to whether the Discworld was invented as the first pizza, or in honor of the first pizza. The god, upon being re-interviewed to clarify this matter, made some guilty sounds about not cheating on his diet, a few other incoherent noises, and banished the reporters.
(4) Thus was the first pun invented, and so did evil enter into the world.
(5) Except for certain specialised dishes of the B'alng tribe that were to be later invented. It is unsurprising to note that - were this minor people to be recorded in history - they would undoubtedly go down as the tribe with the Most Turtle Casualties and greatest rate of Suicide By Elephant.
(6) And himself. But mostly his work.
(7) An evil cloak. On an evil cloakrack. In an evil closet should hardly require stating: all closets are evil by nature. Why else would it be regarded as such a wonderful thing when people come out of them?
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