Guards! Guards! (Discworld 8)

“Well, yes, but what about her ancestors, eh? You don't get big houses and carriages without grindin' the faces of the poor a bit.”

“You're just annoyed because your missus has been embroidering crowns on her undies,” said Nobby.

“That's got nothing to do with it,” said Sergeant Colon indignantly. “I've always been very firm on the rights of man.”

“And dwarf,” said Carrot.

“Yeah, right,” said the sergeant uncertainly. “But all this business about kings and lords, it's against basic human dignity. We're all born equal. It makes me sick.”

“Never heard you talk like this before, Frederick,” said Nobby.

"It's Sergeant Colon to you, Nobby.

“Sorry, Sergeant.”

The fog itself was shaping up to be a real Ankh-Morpork autumn gumbo.* Vimes squinted through it as the droplets buckled down to a good day's work soaking him to the skin.

“I can just make him out,” he said. “Turn left here.”

“Any ideas where we are?” said Lady Ramkin.

“Business district somewhere,” said Vimes shortly. Errol's progress was slowing a bit. He kept looking up and whining.

“Can't see a damn thing above us in the fog,” he said. “I wonder if-”

The fog, as if in acknowledgement, lit up. Ahead of them it blossomed like a chrysanthemum and made a noise like “whoomph”.

“Oh, no,” moaned Vimes. “Not again!”

"Like a pea-souper, only much thicker, fishier, and with things in it you'd probably rather not know about.

...

“Are the Cups of Integrity well and truly suffused?” intoned Brother Watchtower.

“Aye, suffused full well.”

“The Waters of the World, are they Abjured?”

“Yea, abjured full mightily.”

“Have the Demons of Infinity been bound with many chains?”

“Damn,” said Brother Plasterer, “there's always something.”

Brother Watchtower sagged. “Just once it would be nice if we could get the ancient and timeless rituals right, wouldn't it. You'd better get on with it.”

“Wouldn't it be quicker, Brother Watchtower, if I just did it twice next time?” said Brother Plasterer.

Brother Watchtower gave this some grudging consideration. It seemed reasonable.

“All right,” he said. “Now get back down there with the others. And you should call me Acting Supreme Grand Master, understand?”

This did not meet with what he considered to be a proper and dignified reception among the brethren.

“No-one said anything to us about you being Acting Supreme Grand Master,” muttered Brother Doorkeeper.

“Well, that's all you know because I bloody well am because Supreme Grand Master asked me to open the Lodge on account of him being delayed with all this coronation work,” said Brother Watchtower haughtily. “If that doesn't make me Acting Supreme Grand bloody Master I'd like to know what does, all right?”