There was a clonk of a heavy branch banging across the windowsill. With a cry of "Elves!" Swires scuttled across the floor to a mouse hole and vanished.
"What shall we do?" said Twoflower?
"Panic?" said Rincewind hopefully. He had always held that panic was the best means of survival; back in the olden days, his theory went, people faced with hungry saber-toothed tigers could be divided very simply into those who panicked and those who stood there saying "What a magnificent brute!" and "Here, pussy."
---from The Light Fantastic by Terry Pratchett.