"You mean like eating grubs but thinking I'm eating jam sandwiches?" Rincewind shakes his head. "I've done both an trust me, you can tell the difference. The jam tastes like jam and the grubs taste like sick. Which saves time, but that's all you can say for it." He frowns. How to explain Fourecks? "Um, it's a place where I come from that's supposed to be mythical but isn't."
"But there aren't any sandwiches!" Rincewind protests. "And I don't see anything that looks like a target." He knows about targets.
"Right, that's just what the executioner always says." Rincewind goes back to the yellow line and starts again. He's holding the white rock in his hand and he drops it on the line. Bending to pick it up, he kicks it farther along. Trying again, he keeps bending, kicking and walking until he's made it through the entire course without knocking over or bumping into anything."