Lord Frederick Leighton The Fisherman and the Syren

thought some more, and sighed.
'Oh, I remember. It's the one in the throat,' he said.

Vimes Dink. 'Corporal Carrot says there's some good buried somewhere in everyone,' said Detritus.
And what's your job, Detritus.'
Dink. 'Engineer in charge of deep mining operations, sah!'
Vimes scratched his head.
'That was very nearly a joke, wasn't it?' he said.
'It this new helmet my mate Cuddy made me, sir. Hah! People can't say, there go stupid troll. They have to say, who that goodlooking military troll there, acting-constable already, great future behind him, he got Destiny written all over him like writing.'stepped out into the sunlight, except that there wasn't much of it. Clouds were blowing in from the Hub. And—'Detritus?'Dink. 'Captain Vimes, sah!''Who're all these people?''Watchmen, sir.'Vimes stared in puzzlement at the half-dozen assorted guards.'Who're you?''Lance-Constable Hrolf Pyjama, sir.'And y— Coalface?''I never done nuffin.''I never done nuffin, sah!' yelled Detritus.'Coalface? In the Watch?'