Thud!

just managed to huddle all alone. You usually need two to huddle, but here was a troll trying to hide behind himself. No one could hide behind Brick; for a troll, he was stick-thin to the point of knobbliness. His lichen was cheap and matted, not the real thing at all, probably the stuff they made up out of broccoli stalks in the back alleys of Quarry Lane. His belt of skulls was a disgrace; some of them were clearly the papier-mâché kind that could be bought from any joke shop. One had a red nose.
    He looked around nervously, and there was a thud as his club dropped from his fingers.
    “I’m in deep copro, right?” he said.
    “Certainly we need to talk to you,” said Carrot. “Do you want a lawyer?”
    “No, I ate already.”
    “You eat lawyers?” said Carrot.
    Brick gave him an empty stare until sufficient brain had been mustered.
    “What d’y’call dem fings, dey kinda crumble when you eat dem?” he ventured.
    Carrot looked at Detritus and Angua, to see if there was going to be any help there.
    “ Could be lawyers,” he conceded.
    “Dey go soggy if you dips ’em in somfing,” said Brick, as if undertaking a forensic examination.
    “More likely to be biscuits, then?” Carrot suggested.
    “Could be. Inna packet wi’ all paper on. Yeah, biscuits.”
    “What I meant,” said Carrot, “was when we talk to you, do you want someone to be on your side?”
    “Yes please. Everyone,” said Brick promptly. To be the center of attention in a room full of watchmen was his worst nightmare. No, hold on, what about dat time when he had dat bad Slab wot had bin cut wi’ ammonium nitrate? Whooo! Good-bye lobes! Yep! Den dis was his second worst nightmar—no, come to fink of it, dere was dis time when he had dat stuff wot Hardcore jacked off’f One-Eyed Goddam, whee, yes! Who knows where dat has bin! All dem dancin’ teef! So dis was his—hey, wait, remember dat time you got lunched on Scrape an’ your arms flew away? Okay, dat was bad, so maybe dis was his…wait, wait, of course, can’t be forgetting der day when you got baked on Sliver and blew powdered zinc up you nose an’ thought you’d thrown up your feet? Aargh, here come dat time again when you’d, aargh no, when you’d, aargh—
    Brick had got as far as his nineteenth worst nightmare before Carrot’s voice cut through the snakes.
    “Mr. Brick?”
    “Er…is dat still me?” said Brick nervously. He could really, really do some Slab right now…
    “Generally your advocate is one person,” said Carrot. “We’re going to have to ask you some difficult questions. You’re allowed to have someone to help you. Perhaps you have a friend we could fetch?”
    Brick pondered this. The only people he could think of in this context were Totally Slag and Big Marble, although more correctly they fell into the category of “people dat don’t fro fings at me much and let me glom a bit o’ Slab sometimes” Right now, these did not seem ideal qualifications.
    He pointed to Sergeant Detritus.
    “Him,” he said. “He helped me find my teef.”
    “I’m not sure a serving officer is—” Carrot began.
    “I’ll volunteer for the role, Captain,” said a little voice. Carrot peered over the edge of the desk.
    “Mr. Pessimal? I don’t think you should be out of bed.”
    “Uh…I am, in fact, acting lance constable, Captain,” said A.E. Pessimal, politely yet firmly. He was on crutches.
    “Oh? Er…right,” said Carrot. “But, I still think you shouldn’t be out of bed.”
    “Nevertheless, justice must be served,” said A. E. Pessimal.
    Brick bent down and peered closely at the inspector. “It’s dat gnome from last night,” he said. “Don’t want him!”
    “You can’t think of anyone ?” said Carrot.
    Brick thought again, and at last brightened up.
    “Yeah, I can,” he said. “Easy. Someone to help me answer der questions, right.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Well, easy peas. If you can fetch that dwarf I saw down in dat new dwarf mine last night, he’d help me.”
    The room went deadly quiet.
    “And why would he do that?” said Carrot carefully.
    “He could tell you why he was hitting dat other dwarf onna head,” said Brick. “I mean, I don’t know. But I ’spect he won’t wanna come on account of me bein’ a troll, so I’ll stick with the sergeant, if it’ all der same to you.”
    “I think this is going too far, Captain!” said A. E. Pessimal.
    In the silence that followed this, Carrot’s voice sounded