'Excuse me, miss, but could you let me have a drop of blood-- Yes, perhaps this isn't the right moment,' he added nervously, as she fled shrieking.
' 'ere, what did you say to our Rene?' said a thickset man, putting down a tray of hot loaves.
'Are you the baker?' said William.
The man gave him a look. 'What does it look like?'
'I can see what it looks like,' said William. There was another look, but this one had just a measure of respect in it. 'I'm still asking the question,' he went on.
'I'm the butcher, as it happens,' said the man. 'Well done. The baker's off sick. And who are you, askin' me questions?'
'Commander Vimes sent me down here,' said William. He was appalled at the ease with which the truth turned into a something that was almost a lie, just by being positioned correctly. He opened his notebook. I'm from the Times. Did you--'
'What, the paper?' said the butcher.
That's right. Did you--'
'Hah! You got it completely up your bum about the winter, y'know. You should've said it was the Year of the Ant, that was the worst. You should've arsked me. I could've put you right.'
'And you are--?'
'Sidney Clancy and Son, aged 39, 11 Long Hogmeat, Purveyors of Finest Cat and Dog Meats to The Gentry... Why aren't you writing it down?'
'Lord Vetinari eats pet food?'
'He doesn't eat much of anything from what I hear. No, I delivers for his dog; Finest stuff. Prime. We sell only the best at 11 Long Hogmeat, open every day from 6 a.m. to mid--'
'Oh, his dog. Right,' said William. 'Er.' He looked around at the throng. Some of those people could tell him things, and he was talking to a dogmeat man. Still...
'Could you let me have a tiny piece of meat?' he said.
'Are you going to put it in the paper?'
'Yes. Sort of. In a way.'
William found a quiet alcove hidden from the general excitement and gingerly let the piece of meat dribble one drop of blood on to the little grey pile.
The dust mushroomed up into the air, became a mass of coloured flecks, became Otto Chriek.
'How vas that vun?' he said. 'Oh
'I think you got the picture,' said William. 'Er, your jacket...'
Part of the sleeve of the vampire's jacket was now the colour and
texture of the stair carpet in the big hall, a rather dull pattern of red and blue.
'Carpet dust got mixed in, I expect,' said Otto. 'Do not be alarmed. Happens all zer time,' He sniffed the sleeve. 'Finest steak? Thank you!'
'It was dog food,' said William the Truthful.
'Dog food?'
'Yes. Grab your stuff and follow me.'
'Dog food?'
'You did say it was finest steak. Lord Vetinari is kind to his dog. Look, don't complain to me. If this sort of thing happens a lot then you ought to carry a little bottle of emergency blood! Otherwise people will do the best they can!'