Rene Magritte The Ignorant Fairy

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M’Bu leaned on the fence and waited.
‘Maybe two hundred, give or take ten,’ said Azhural, throwing down the stick. ‘Nowhere near enough.’
‘You can’t give or take ten elephants, boss,’ said M’Bu firmly. He knew that counting elephants was a precision job. A‘Drawing a map, boss,’ said M’Bu.
Azhural shook his head. ‘Not worth it, boy. Three thousand miles to Ankh, I reckon, I let myself get carried away. Too many miles, not enough elephants.’
‘We could go across the plains, boss,’ said M’Bu. ‘Lot of elephants on the plains man might be uncertain about how many wives he had, but never about elephants. Either you had one, or you didn’t. ‘Our agent in Klatch has an order for’, Azhural swallowed, ‘a thousand elephants. A thousand! Immediately! Cash on delivery!’ Azhural let the paper drop to the ground. ‘To a place called Ankh-Morpork,’ he said despondently. He sighed. ‘It would have been nice,’ he said. M’Bu scratched his head and stared at the hammerhead clouds massing over Mt F’twangi. Soon the dry veldt would boom to the thunder of the rains. Then he reached down and picked up the stick. ‘What’re you doing?’ said Azhural.