The Truth (Discworld 25)

Otto emerged, very slowly and nervously, from behind the lens. He was thin, pale and wore little oval dark glasses. He still clutched the twist of black ribbon as if it was a talisman, which it more or less was.

'It's all right, we won't bite you,' said Sacharissa.

'And one good turn deserves another, eh?' said Goodmountain.

'That was a bit tasteless, Mr Goodmountain,' said Sacharissa.

'So am I,' said the dwarf, turning back to the stone. 'Just so long as people know where I stand, that's all,'

'You vill not be sorry,' said Otto. 'I am completely reformed, I assure you. Vot is it you vant me to take pictures of, please?'

'News,' said William.

'Vot is news, please?'

'News is...' William began. 'News... is what we put in the paper--'

'What d'you think of this, eh?' said a cheerful voice.

William turned. There was a horribly familiar face looking at him over the top of a cardboard box.

'Hello, Mr Wintler,' he said. 'Er, Sacharissa, I wonder if you could go and--'

He wasn't quick enough. Mr Wintler, a man of the variety that thinks a whoopee cushion is the last word in repartee, was not the kind to let a mere freezing reception stand in his way. 'I was digging my garden this morning and up came this parsnip, and I thought: that young man at the paper will laugh himself silly when he sees it, 'cos my lady wife couldn't keep a straight face, and--'

To William's horror he was already reaching into the box. 'Mr Wintler, I really don't think--'

But the hand was already rising, and there was the sound of something scraping on the side of the box. 'I bet the young lady here would like a good chuckle too, eh?'

William shut his eyes.

He heard Sacharissa gasp. Then she said, 'Golly, it's amazingly lifelike!'

William opened his eyes. 'Oh, it's a nose,' he said. 'A parsnip with a sort of knobbly face and a huge noseV

'You vant I should take a picture?' said Otto.

'Yes!' said William, drunk with relief. 'Take a big picture of Mr Wintler and his wonderfully nasal parsnip, Otto! Your first job! Yes, indeed!'

Mr Wintler beamed. 'And shall I run back home and fetch my carrot?' he said.

'No!' said William and Goodmountain in whiplash unison.

'You vant the picture right now?' said Otto.

'We certainly do!' said William. The sooner we can let him go home, the sooner our Mr Wintler can find another wonderfully humorous vegetable, eh, Mr Wintler? What will it be next time? A bean with ears? A beetroot shaped like a potato? A sprout with an enormous hairy tongue?'

'Right here and now is ven you vant the picture?' said Otto, anxiety hanging off every syllable.

'Right now, yes!'

'As a matter of fact, there is a swede coming along that I've got great hopes of--' Mr Wintler began.

'Oh, veil... if you vill look zis vay, Mr Vintler,' said Otto. He got behind the iconograph and uncovered the lens. William got a glimpse of the imp peering out, brush poised. In his spare hand Otto slowly held up, on a stick, a cage containing a fat and drowsing salamander, finger poised on the trigger that would bring a small hammer down on its head just hard enough to annoy it.

'Be smiling, please!'

'Hold on,' said Sacharissa. 'Should a vampire really--?'