Moving Pictures (Discworld 10)

'-'scuse me-'

A troll brow wrinkled. 'To eat 'em, you mean?'

'No, to bring 'em outside.'

'What, like for a barbecue sort of thing?'

'-'scuse me-'

Another foot caught Gaspode on the side of his bullet head.

'Could be he found some more. Look at the way he running back and forwards to the door. He one clever dog.'

'We could go look,' said the first troll.

'Good idea. It seem like ages since I had my tea.'

'Listen, you not allowed to eat people in Holy Wood. It get us bad name! Also Silicon Anti-Defamation League be down on you like a ton of rectangular building things.'

'Yeah, but could be a reward or something.'

'-'SCUSE ME-'

'Right! Also, big improvement for troll image viz-ah-viz public relations if we find lost children.'

'And even if we don't, we can eat the dog, right?'

The bar emptied, leaving only the usual clouds of smoke, cauldrons of molten troll drinks, Ruby idly scraping the congealed lava off the mugs, and a small, weary, moth-eaten dog.

The small, weary, moth-eaten dog thought hard about the difference between looking and acting like a wonder dog and merely being one.

It said 'Bugger.'

Victor remembered being frightened of tigers when he was young. In vain did people point out that the nearest tiger was three thousand miles away. He'd say, 'Is there any sea between where they live and here?' and people would say, 'Well, no, but-' and he'd say, 'Then it's just a matter of distance.'

Darkness was the same thing. All dreadful dark places were connected by the nature of darkness itself. Darkness was everywhere, all the time, just waiting for the lights to go out. Just like the Dungeon Dimensions, really. Just waiting for reality to snap.

He held on tight to Ginger.

'You needn't,' she said. 'I've got a grip on myself now.'

'Oh, good,' he said weakly.

'The trouble is, so have you.'

He relaxed.

'Are you cold?' she said.

'A bit. It's very clammy down here.'

'Is it your teeth I can hear chattering?'

'Who else's? No,' he added hurriedly, 'don't even think about it.'

'You know,' she said, after a while, 'I don't remember anything about tying you up. I'm not even very good at knots.'

'These were pretty good,' said Victor.