Thud!

disgrace, Sam. Worse than the urn. Doesn’t anyone ever clean it out?”
    She looked up at their faces.
    “Did I say something wrong?” she said.
    “You made a copy of the Rascal?” said Sir Reynold.
    “Oh, yes. The whole thing, on a scale of one to five,” said Sybil. “When I was fourteen. It was a school project. We were doing dwarf history, you see, and, well, since we owned that painting, it was too good to miss. You know what a pantograph is, don’t you? It’s a very simple way of making larger or smaller copies of a painting, using geometry, some wooden levers, and a sharp pencil. Actually, I did it as five panels ten feet square, that’s full-size, to make sure I got all the detail, and then I did the one-fifth scale version to display it as poor Mr. Rascal wanted it displayed. I got full marks from Miss Turpitude. She was our math teacher, you know, she wore her hair in a bun with a pair of compasses and a ruler stuck in it? She used to say that a girl who knew how to use a set square and protractor would go a long way in life.”
    “What a shame you no longer have it!” said Sir Reynold.
    “Why should you say that, Sir Reynold?” said Sybil. “I’m sure I’ve still got it somewhere. I had it hanging up from the ceiling of my room for some time. Let me think…did we take it with us when we moved? I’m sure—” She looked up brightly. “Ah, yes. Have you even been up to the attics here, Sam?”
    “No!” said Vimes.
    “Now’s the time, then.”

“I ’ve never been on a girls’ night out before,” said Cheery as they walked, a little uncertainly, through the nighttime city. “Was that last bit supposed to happen?”
    “What bit was that?” said Sally.
    “The bit where the bar was set on fire.”
    “Not usually ,” said Angua.
    “I’ve never seen men fight over a woman before,” Cheery went on.
    “Yeah, that was something, wasn’t it?” said Sally. They’d dropped Tawneee off at her home. She’d been in quite a thoughtful frame of mind.
    “And all she did was smile at a man,” said Cheery.
    “Yes,” said Angua. She was trying to concentrate on walking.
    “It’d be a bit of a shame for Nobby if she lets that go to her head, though,” said Cheery.
    Save me from talkative druks…drinks… drunks , Angua thought. She said: “Yes, but what about Miss Pushpram? She’s thrown some quite expensive fish at Nobby over the years.”
    “We’ve struck a blow for womanhood,” Sally declared loudly. “Shoes, men, coffins…never accept the first one you see.”
    “Oh, shoes ,” said Cheery. “I can talk about shoes . Has anyone seen the new Yan Rockhammer solid-copper slingbacks?”
    “Er…we don’t go to a metalworker for our footwear, dear,” said Sally. “Oh…I think I’m going to be sick…”
    “Serves you right for drinking…vine,” said Angua maliciously.
    “Oh ha ha,” said the vampire, from the shadows. “I’m perfectly fine with sarcastic pause ‘vine,’ thank you! What I shouldn’t have drunk was sticky drinks with names made up by people with less sense of humor than, uh, excuse me…oh, noooo…”
    “Are you all right?” said Cheery.
    “I’ve just thrown up a small, hilarious, paper umbrella…”
    “Oh dear.”
    “And a sparkler…”
    “Is that you, Sergeant Angua?” said a voice in the gloom. A lantern was opened, and lit the approaching face of Constable Visit. As he approached, she could just make out the thick wad of pamphlets under his other arm.
    “Hello, Washpot,” she said. “What’s up?”
    “…looks like a twist of lemon…” said a damp voice from the shadows.
    “Mister Vimes sent me to search the dens of iniquity and low places of sin for you,” said Visit.
    “And the literature?” said Angua. “By the way, the words ‘nothing personal’ could have so easily been added to that last sentence.”
    “Since I was having to tour the temples of vice, Sergeant, I thought I could do Om’s holy work at the same time,” said Visit, whose indefatigable evangelical zeal triumphed over all adversity. * Sometimes whole bars full of people would lie down on the floor with the lights out when they heard he was coming down the street.
    There were sounds of retching from the darkness.
    “ ‘Woe unto those who abuseth the vine,’ ” said Constable Visit. He caught the expression on Angua’s face and added “no offense meant.”
    “We’ve been through all that,” moaned Sally.
    “What does he want,