Idea for a Comic Page.
PAGE ONE (six panels)
Panel 1. A bridgeless expanse of Lancre Gorge, which is most of it. One of the parallel cliffs is lower than the other. The snow cover between the dark imposing pines runs right up to the treacherous edge of the lower cliff — which is of no concern to GRANNY WEATHERWAX, small with distance, striding up to it as she continues her song.
1 GRANNY: IT’S TIME TO SEE WHAT I CAN DO…
Panel 2. Granny throws out her arm at the gorge. A fractal wave of bright octarine fire surges from her hand to span the gap. Behind the wave, the platonic shape of a staircase conjures out of thin air.
2 GRANNY: TO TEST THE LIMITS AND BREAK THROUGH!
Panel 3. Ground shot. The blast of magic has reached the opposite side of the gorge and is now only a distant bright line. What was an instant ago the mere shape of stairs has grown into a grand flight of jet-black steps, each one curved like the inside of a scythe, flanked by Gothic railings crooked like dead tree limbs. The steps are more solid and coherent the closer they are to us, and the very furthest ones are still platonic. The entire conjured structure shines with the sickly light of the remainder of the magic wavefront.
3 GRANNY (OP): NO RIGHT, NO WRONG…
Panel 4. The single most frightening sight the Discworld will ever see: Esmerelda Weatherwax about to enjoy the selfish indulgence of her own power. She is lit from underneath, her eyes glitter with diamond-hard malice and her smile is nothing but joyous. Every line in her face is its own dramatic and deadly gorge and even her hatpins bring violence to mind. She would cackle if she weren’t singing.
4 GRANNY: NO RULES FOR ME…
Panel 5. Granny puts her foot on the first step, cloak billowing in a dramatic wind, arms outstretched to her sides as if welcoming the stairway. It surely won’t lead to Heaven. From this POV, we see she has a spectator: the back of someone’s head — thick with grandmotherly curls of white hair — peers around a dark pine.
5 GRANNY: I’M FREE…!
Panel 6. NANNY OGG, helpless to do anything but watch from the non-safety of the forest, stares into the end of the world. Her pointy hat is in her hands, and she nervously bites the brim with her single tooth.
6 NANNY (hopeless): BUGGER ME, WE’RE ALL DEAD.
7 GRANNY (OP): LET IT GO, LET IT GO…
I finally convinced my mother to make her own Amazon wishlist.
There’s a Glenn Beck book on it.