More random PTerry fanfic, prompted by Twitter conversations and… events.
“How do you think he’s doing in there?” Captain Angua asked.
“Oh I’m sure the Comm…” Carrot caught himself just in time. “I’m sure the Patrician is taking it all in his stride.”
It has been said that over time buildings become more than just objects, that they evolve personalities of their own. This isn’t true, but history is messy and prone to leaving excess deposits of narrativium in certain places. The Patrician’s Palace of Ankh Morpork, formerly the Royal Winter Palace, was practically built out of it. So as soon as Captain Carrot finished speaking, a scream erupted from the Patrician’s office. There was no other option. The universe demanded it.
Carrot immediately drew his sword, but one of the advantages of being a werewolf was supernatural reaction times. Angua was already moving for the door, sword unsheathed before Carrot’s blade was even free of its scabbard. Before she’d taken two steps, however, Cheery was in front of her, blocking her path.
“It’s just the Assassins’ Guild.” The dwarf said calmly, but firmly, blocking her way. “They seem to feel like they should at least make an effort. I’ve learned not to interrupt. I think it’s the only part of the job he’s enjoying.”
Angua glanced across at Carrot, who looked frustrated, but nodded and sheathed his sword. It was only as she began to do the same that reality hit her.
