The Truth (Discworld 25)

'Why? Because... because...ecause, well, anyone will be able to read it, that's why!'

'Good, 'cos that means anyone'll be able to pay twenty pence,' said Gunilla calmly. There's lots more poor folk than rich folk and it's easier to get money out of 'em.' He grimaced at Foul Ole Ron. 'This may seem a strange question,' he said, 'but have you got any friends?'

'I told 'em! I told 'em! Bugrem!'

'Probably yes,' said William. 'He hangs put with a bunch of... er... unfortunates who live under one of the bridges. Well, not exactly "hangs out". More "droops".'

'Well now,' said Gunilla, waving the copy of the Times at Ron, 'you can tell them that if they can sell these to people for twenty pence each, I'll let you keep one nice shiny penny.'

'Yeah? And you can put yer nice shiny penny where the sun don't shine,' said Ron.

'Oh, so you--' Gunilla began.

William laid a hand on his arm. 'Sorry, just a minute-- What was that you said, Ron?' he said.

'Bugrit,' said Foul Ole Ron.

It had sounded like Ron's voice and it had seemed to come from the general area of Ron's face, it was just that it had demonstrated a coherence you didn't often get.

'You want more than a penny?' said William carefully.

'Got to be worth five pence a time,' said Ron. More or less.

For some reason William's gaze was dragged down to the small grey dog. It returned it amiably and said, 'Woof?'

He looked back up again. 'Are you all right, Foul Ole Ron?' he said.

'Gottle o' geer, gottle o' geer,' said Ron mysteriously.

'All right... two pence,' said Gunilla.

'Four,' Ron seemed to say. 'But let's not mess about, okay? One dollar per thirty?'

'It's a deal,' said Goodmountain, who spat on his hand and would have held it out to seal the contract if William hadn't gripped it urgently.

'Don't.'

'What's wrong?'

William sighed. 'Have you got any horribly disfiguring diseases?'

'No!'

'Do you want some?'

'Oh.' Gunilla lowered his hand. 'You tell your friends to get round here right now, okay?' he said. He turned to William.

'Trustworthy, are they?'

'Well... sort of,' said William. 'It's probably not a good idea to leave paint thinners around.'

Outside, Foul Ole Ron and his dog ambled down the street. And the strange thing was that a conversation was going on,

even though there was technically only one person there.

'See? I told you. You just let me do the talkin', all right?'

'Bugrit.'