'Like this,' said Mr Tulip, half of his face flashing on and off.
Charlie leapt back.
'Not quite like that, perhaps,' said Mr Pin. 'But close.'
'I don't want to do this any more!' Charlie wailed.
'Ten thousand dollars, Charlie,' said Mr Pin. That's a lot of money.'
'I've heard of this Vetinari,' said Charlie. 'If this goes wrong he'll have me thrown into the scorpion pit!'
Mr Pin spread his hands expansively. 'Well, the scorpion pit isn't as bad as it's cracked up to be, you know?'
'It's a --ing picnic compared to me,' rumbled Mr Tulip, his nose lighting up.
Charlie's eyes sought a way out. Unfortunately, one of them was cleverness. Mr Pin hated the sight of Charlie trying to be clever. It was like watching a dog try to play the trombone.
'I'm not doing it for ten thousand dollars,' he said. 'I mean... you need me...'
He let it hang in the air, which was very much what Mr Pin was considering doing with Charlie.
'We had a deal, Charlie,' he said mildly.
'Yeah, well, I reckon there's more money in this now,' said Charlie.
'What do you think, Mr Tulip?'
Tulip opened his mouth to reply but sneezed instead. A thin bolt of lightning earthed itself on Charlie's chain.
'Maybe we could go to fifteen thousand,' said Mr Pin. 'And that's coming out of our share, Charlie.'
'Yeah, well...' said Charlie. He was as far away from Mr Tulip as possible now, because the man's dry hair was standing out from his head.
'But we want to see some extra effort, right?' said Mr Pin. 'Starting right now. All you have to do is say... What do you have to say?'
' "You are relieved of your post, my man. Go away," ' said Charlie.
'Except we don't say it like that, do we, Charlie?' said Mr Pin. It's an order. You are his boss. And you have to give him a haughty stare... Look, how can I put it? You're a shopkeeper. Imagine that he's asked for credit.'
It was six in the morning. Freezing fog held the city in its breathless grip.
Through the mists they came, and into the press room behind the Bucket they lurched, and out into the mists they went again, on a variety of legs, crutches and wheels.
'Mrpikeerah-tis!'
Lord Vetinari heard the cry and sent the overnight clerk down to the gate again.
He noted the title. He smiled at the motto.
He read the words:
IT IS THE COLDEST WINTER
IN LIVING MEMORY, AND
THAT IS OFFICIAL.
Dr Fettle Dodgast (132) of Unfeen University, told the Times: 'It if as cold as I can remember. Mind you, we don't get the winter thefe days that we had when I was ,'^young.'