Rincewind considers this for a moment. "No, otherwise they would have tasted of potatoes, not jam. Oh," he goes on carelessly, "stories of giant leaping rats, ducks with no fur and huge flightless chickens. Not a lot of rain."
"ULP!" Rincewind gulps nervously, his adams apples doing a curious little dance. "HAH!" he says under his breath, meaning the targets. "They're there all right. When does he get eaten?" He nods at the picture in the book.
Rincewind looks ready to burst into tears. "Is there any glue about?" he asks hopefully.
Got it in one! This is Rincewind after all- when things are going right, they aren't. :)