[that's a good little Winger speech, Jeffrey.

Rincewind makes some low, disgruntled noise, arms still folded against his chest. Valiantly trying to pretend none of that got through to him.]

...Yes, well, there are a dozen other heroes out there. Real ones, even. I wouldn't care if it weren't my hat they were doing it with.

[he kicks at some invisible dust mote.]

You're lucky the only way they can imitate you is through hair gel and tight shirts.