There is a god of physical comedy, and he and his minions are gathered around the scrying circle eagerly, though there is much poking of eyes, yanking on ears and pulling chairs out from under others before they finally settle down to watch. Unfortunately, no one brought popcorn.
"Someone tripped me," Rincewind mutters, prone on the ground. He looks up muzzily at Xellos. "Did I win?" he asks vaguely.