Thud!

some kind of ceremony.”
    “Could be,” Carrot agreed, carefully. “Thank you for this, sir. I’ll go prepared.”
    As Carrot reached the door, Vimes added, “One thing, Captain?”
    “Yes, sir?”
    Vimes didn’t look up from the sandwich, from which he was daintily separating fragments of the L and the T from the crispy B.
    “Just remember you’re a copper, will you?” he said.

S ally knew something was up as soon as she got back into the locker room, in her shiny new breastplate and soup-bowl helmet. Coppers of various species were standing around trying to look nonchalant. Coppers are never any good at this at all.
    They watched as she approached her locker. She opened the door, therefore, with due care. The shelf was full of garlic.
    Ah. It starts, and so soon, too. Just as well she’d been prepared…
    Here and there, behind her, she heard the faint coughs and throat clearings of people trying not to laugh. And there was smirking going on; a smirk makes a subtle noise if you’re listening for it.
    She reached into the locker with both hands and pulled out two big fat bulbs. All eyes were on her, all coppers were motionless as she walked slowly around the room.
    The reek of garlic was strong on one young constable, whose big grin was suddenly caked with nervousness at the corners. He had the look about him of the kind of fool who’d do anything for a giggle.
    “Excuse me, Constable, but what is your name?” she said meekly.
    “Er…Fittly, miss…”
    “Are these from you?” Sally demanded. She let her canines extend just enough to notice.
    “…er, only a joke, miss…”
    “Nothing funny about it,” said Sally sweetly. “I like garlic. I love garlic. Don’t you?”
    “Er…yeah…” said the unhappy Fittly.
    “Good,” said Sally.
    With a speed that made him flinch, she rammed a bulb into her mouth and bit down heavily.
    The crunching was the only sound in the locker room.
    And then she swallowed.
    “Oh dear, where are my manners, Constable?” she said, holding out the other bulb. “This one’s yours…”
    Laughter broke out around the room. Coppers are like any other mob. The table’s been turned, and this way around it’s funnier. It’s a bit of a laugh, a bit of fun. No harm done, eh?
    “Come on, Fittly,” said someone. “It’s only fair. She ate hers!” And someone else, as someone always does, began to clap and urge “Eat! Eat!” Others took it up, encouraged by the fact that Fittly had gone bright red.
    “Eat! eat! eat! eat! eat! eat! eat! eat! eat!eat!eat!—”
    A man without an option, Fittly grabbed the bulb, forced it into his mouth, and bit it hard, to the accompaniment of cheers. A moment later, Sally saw his eyes widen.
    “Lance Constable von Humpeding?”
    She turned. A young man of godlike proportions * was standing in the doorway. Unlike the armor of the other officers, his breastplate shone and the chain mail was quite devoid of rust.
    “Everything all right?” The officer glanced at Fittly, who’d dropped to his knees and was coughing garlic across the room, but somehow quite failed to see him.
    “Er, fine, sir,” said Sally, puzzled, as Fittly began to throw up.
    “We’ve met already. Everyone calls me Captain Carrot. Come with me, please.”
    Out in the main office, Carrot stopped and turned. “All right, Lance Constable…you had a bulb already prepared, right? Don’t look like that, there’s a vegetable barrow out in the square today. It’s not hard to work out.”
    “Er…Sergeant Angua did warn me…”
    “So…?”
    “So I carved a garlic out of a turnip, sir.”
    “And the one you gave Fittly?”
    “Oh, that was a carved turnip, too. I try not to touch garlic, sir,” said Sally. Oh gods, this one really was attractive…
    “Really? Turnip? He seemed to take it badly,” said Carrot.
    “I put a few fresh chili seeds in it,” Sally added. “About thirty, I think.”
    “Oh? Why did you do that?”
    “Oh, you know, sir,” said Sally, radiating innocence. “A bit of a laugh, a bit of fun. No harm done, eh?”
    The captain appeared to consider this.
    “We’ll leave it at that, then,” he said. “Now, Lance Constable, have you ever seen a dead body?”
    Sally waited to see if he was serious. Apparently, he was.
    “Strictly speaking, no, sir,” she said.

V imes fretted through the afternoon. There was, of course , the paperwork. There was always the paperwork. The trays were only the start. Heaps of it were ranged