The Truth

entertainment.
    “That’s a grand gift you have there, sur,” said Arnold Sideways. “It does the heart good to see the pencil waggling like that. I wish I had the knowing of it, but I’ve never been mechanical.”
    “Would you care for a cup of tea?” said the Duck Man.
    “You drink tea down here?”
    “Of course. Why not? What kind of people do you think we are?” The Duck Man held up a blackened teapot and a rusty mug.
    It was probably a good moment to be polite, thought William. Besides, the water would have been boiled, wouldn’t it?
    “No milk, though,” he said quickly. He could imagine what the milk would be like.
    “Ah, I said you were a gentleman,” said the Duck Man, pouring a tarry brown liquid into the mug. “Milk in tea is an abomination.” He picked up, with a dainty gesture, a plate and a pair of tongs. “Slice of lemon?” he added.
    “Lemon? You have lemon? ”
    “Oh, even Mr. Ron here would rather wash under his arms than have anything but lemon in his tea,” said the Duck Man, plopping a slice into William’s mug.
    “And four sugars,” said Arnold Sideways.
    William took a deep draught of the tea. It was thick and stewed, but it was also sweet and hot. And slightly lemony. All in all, he considered, it could have been much worse.
    “Yes, we’re very fortunate when it comes to slices of lemon,” said the Duck Man, busily fussing over the tea things. “Why, it is indeed a bad day when we can’t find two or three slices floating down the river.”
    William stared fixedly at the river wall.
    Spit or swallow, he thought, the eternal conundrum.
    “Are you all right, Mr. de Worde?”
    “Mmf.”
    “Too much sugar?”
    “Mmf.”
    “Not too hot?”
    William gratefully sprayed the tea in the direction of the river.
    “Ah!” he said. “Yes! Too hot! That’s what it was! Too hot! Lovely tea but—too hot! I’ll just put the rest down here by my foot to cool down, shall I?”
    He snatched up his pencil and pad.
    “So…er, Wuffles, which man was it that you bit on the leg?”
    Wuffles barked.
    “He bit all of them,” said the voice of Deep Bone. “When you’re biting, why stop?”
    “Would you know them if you bit them again?”
    “He says he would. He says the big man tasted of…you know…” Deep Bone paused. “Like a…wossname…big, big bowl with hot water and soap in it.”
    “A bath?”
    Wuffles growled.
    “That’d…be the word,” said Deep Bone. “An’ the other one smelled of cheap hair oil. And the one who looked like G—like Lord Vetinari, he smelled of wine.”
    “Wine?”
    “Yes. Wuffles also says he’d like to apologize for biting you just now, but he got carried away with the recollection. We—that is to say, dogs have very physical memories, if you see what I mean.”
    William nodded, and rubbed his leg. The description of the invasion of the Oblong Office had been carried out in a succession of yelps, barks, and growls, with Wuffles running around in circles and snapping at his own tail until he bumped into William’s ankle.
    “And Ron’s been carrying him around in his coat ever since?”
    “No one bothers Foul Ole Ron,” said Deep Bone.
    “I believe you,” said William. He nodded at Wuffles.
    “I want to get an iconograph of him,” he said. “This is…amazing stuff. But we must have a picture to prove I’ve really talked to Wuffles. Well…via an interpreter, obviously, I wouldn’t want people to think this is one of the Inquirer ’s stupid ‘talking dog’ stories…”
    There was some muttering amongst the crew. The request was not being favorably received.
    “This is a select neighborhood, you know,” said the Duck Man. “We don’t allow just anybody down here.”
    “But there’s a path running right under the bridge!” said William. “Anyone could walk right past!”
    “Werll, yerss,” said Coffin Henry. “They could. ” He coughed and spat with great expertise into the fire. “Only they don’t no more.”
    “Bugrit,” explained Foul Ole Ron. “Choking a tinker? Garn! I told ’em. Millennium hand and shrimp!”
    “Then you’d better come back to the office with me,” said William. “After all, you’ve been carrying him around while you’ve been selling the papers, haven’t you?”
    “Too dangerous now,” said Deep Bone.
    “Would it be less dangerous for another fifty dollars?” said William.
    “ Another fifty dollars?” said Arnold Sideways. “That’ll make it fifteen