The god of small places roared into my face – “You be doctor now, you be pharmacist”. And then he laughed and laughed and laughed, enjoying his own dubious humour far too much for my liking. “You be doctor, you be solicitor, you be pharmacist”, he roared again, almost splitting my eardrums. He laughed and laughed and he laughed and his laughter echoed through an infinite labyrinth of empty corridors, consulting rooms and office spaces which his joke had created in my mind. He boomed out his harsh laughter over and over again, drunk on his own malign power. He shook the whole world with his laughter, roaring out over and over again with irrepressible malignant glee – “You be doctor, you be solicitor, you be pharmacist!” It was then that I realized that the god of small places was an evil god….