They sold the statues into white slavery and left town fast, before anyone noticed. Another day, another scam, and the car ground on towards the horizon without every really getting there.

"The market's changing. I'm going to invest in a conscience."

There was a snort of derision, and "Hey, man, intuition's a fine thing, but do you think this is the right time? There's no going back, and we've got a few jobs left in us, yet."

A sigh, and then "I'm getting tired. We've almost made enough. Soon I can retire and buy a nice little farm somewhere that I can pay people to run."

Silence for a while, punctuated by the eating of chocolate bars, and then "Ok, we'll call it a day after the next job. I guess I'm getting tired of the whole thing, too."

More silence.

"This car stinks. Who sold you that air freshener?"

God tripped and fell short of Wyoming, crushing a few cities. It pays to be sure-footed if you're a million tonne deity that no-one's ever seen. They stole into what used to be town and sold the confused masses cardboard to keep the rain off and holes to keep their names in. No-one ever asked where the buildings went, apart from the insurance companies.