Moving Pictures (Discworld 10)

Plib.

'-of-'

Plib.

'-one-'

Plib.

'-month,

Plib.

Gaspode woke up and quickly hauled himself into what he hoped looked like an alert position.

Someone was shouting, but politely, as if they wanted to be helped but only if it wouldn't be too much trouble.

He trotted up the steps. The door was ajar. He pushed it open with his head.

Victor was lying on his back, tied to a chair. Gaspode sat down and watched him intently, in case he was about to do something interesting.

'All right, are we?' he said, after a while.

'Don't just sit there, idiot! Untie these knots,' said Victor.

'Idiot I may be, but tied up I ain't,' said Gaspode evenly. 'Got the jump on you, did she?'

'I must have nodded off for a moment,.' said Victor.

'Long enough for her to get up, rip up a sheet, and tie you to the chair,' said Gaspode.

'Yes, all right, all right. Can't you gnaw through it, or something?'

'With these teeth? I could fetch someone, though,' said Gaspode, and grinned.

'Er, I'm not sure that's a very good-'

'Don't worry. I'll be right back,' said Gaspode, and padded out.

'It might be a bit difficult to explain-' Victor called after him, but the dog was down the stairs and ambling along through the maze of backlots and alleys to the rear of Century of the Fruitbat.

He shuffled up to the high fence. There was the gentle clink of a chain.

'Laddie?' he whispered hoarsely.

There was a delighted bark.

'Good boy Laddie!'

'Yeah,' said Gaspode. 'Yeah.' He sighed. Had he ever been like that? If he had, thank goodness he hadn't known about it.

'Me good boy!'

'Sure, sure. Laddie be quiet,' muttered Gaspode, and squeezed his arthritic body under the fence. Laddie licked his face as he emerged.

'I'm too old for this sort of stuff,' he muttered, and peered at the kennel.

'A choke chain,' he said. 'A bloody choke chain. Stop pulling on it, you daft idiot. Back up. Back up. Right.'