'Where're we going to get that from, sir?'
'Mud mousse in a basket of shoe pastry. Get the idea? It's not our fault if even Quirmians don't understand restaurant Quirmian. It's not like lying, after all.'
'Well, it's a bit like-' the waiter began. He'd been cursed with honesty at an early stage. 'Then there's Brodequin rôti Façon Ombres . . The manager sighed at the head waiter's panicky expression. 'Soldier's boot done in the Shades fashion,' he translated. 'Er... Shades fashion?'
'In mud. But if we cook the tongues separately we can put on Languette braisée, too.'
'There's some ladies' shoes, sir,' said an underchef. 'Right. Add to the menu... Let's see now... Sole d'une Bonne Femme... and... yes... Servis dans un Coulis de Terre en I'Eau. That's mud, to you.'
'What about the laces, sir?' said another underchef. 'Good thinking. Dig out that recipe for Spaghetti Carbonara.'
'Sir?' said the head waiter. 'I started off as a chef,' said the manager, picking up a knife. 'How do you think I was able to afford this place? I know how it's done. Get the look and the sauce right and you're threequarters there.'
'But it's all going to be old boots!' said the waiter. 'Prime aged beef,' the manager corrected him. 'It'll tenderize in no time.'
'Anyway... anyway... we haven't got any soup 'Mud. And a lot of onions.'
'There's the puddings---'
'Mud. Let's see if we can get it to caramelize, you never know.'
'I can't even find the coffee... Still, they probably won't last till the coffee...'
'Mud. Cafe de Terre,’ said the manager firmly. 'Genuine ground coffee.'
'Oh, they'll spot that, sir!'
'They haven't up till now,' said the manager darkly. 'We'll never get away with it, sir. Never.' In the country of the sky on top, Medium Dave Lilywhite hauled another bag of money down the stairs. 'There must be thousands here,' said Chickenwire. 'Hundreds of thousands,' said Medium Dave. 'And what's all this stuff?' said Catseye, opening a box. '
's just paper.' He tossed it aside. Medium Dave sighed. He was all for class solidarity, but sometimes Catseye got on his nerves. 'They're title deeds,' he said. 'And they're better than money.' Taper's better'n money?' said Catseye. 'Hah, if you can burn it you can't spend it, that's what I say.'
'Hang on,' said Chickenwire. 'I know about them. The Tooth Fairy owns property?'
'Cot to raise money somehow,' said Medium Dave. 'All those half-dollars under the pillow.'
'If we steal them, do they become ours?'
'Is that a trick question?' said Catseye, smirking. 'Yeah, but... ten thousand each doesn't sound such a lot, when you see all this.'
'He won't miss a-- 'Gentlemen...' They turned. Teatime was in the doorway. 'We were just... we were just piling up the stuff,' said Chickenwire. 'Yes. I know. I told you to.'
'Right. That's right. You did,' said Chickenwire gratefully. 'And there's such a lot,' said Teatime. He gave them a smile. Catseye coughed. '
's got to be thousands,' said Medium Dave. 'And what about all these deeds and so on? Look, this one's for that pipe shop in Honey Trap Lane! In Ankh-Morpork! I buy my tobacco there! Old Thimble is always moaning about the rent, too!'
'Ah. So you opened the strongboxes,' said Teatime pleasantly. 'Well... yes...'
'Fine. Fine,' said Teatime. 'I didn't ask you to, but... fine, fine. And how did you think the Tooth Fairy made her money? Little gnomes in some mine somewhere? Fairy gold? But that turns to trash in the morning!' He laughed. Chickenwire laughed. Even Medium Dave laughed. And then Teatime was on him, pushing him irresistibly backwards until he hit the wall. There was a blur and he tried to blink and his left eyelid was suddenly a rose of pain. Teatime's good eye was close to him, if you could call it good. The pupil was a dot. Medium Dave could just make out his hand, right by Medium Dave's face. It was holding a knife. The point of the blade could only be the merest fraction of an inch from Medium Dave's right eye. 'I know people say I'd kill them as soon as look at them,' whispered Teatime. 'And in fact I'd much rather kill you than look at you, Mr Lilywhite. You stand in a castle of gold and plot to steal pennies. Oh, dear. What am I to do with you?' He relaxed a little, but his hand still held the knife to Medium Dave's unblinking eye. 'You're thinking that Banjo is going to help you,' he said. 'That's how it's always been, isn't it? But Banjo likes me. He really does. Banjo is my friend.' Medium Dave managed to focus beyond Teatime's ear. His brother was just standing there, with the blank face he had while he waited for another order or a new thought to turn up. 'If I thought you were feeling bad thoughts about me I would be so downcast,' said Teatime. 'I do not have many friends left, Mr Medium Dave.' He stood back and smiled happily. 'All friends now?' he said, as Medium Dave slumped down. 'Help him, Banjo.' On cue, Banjo lumbered forward. 'Banjo has the heart of a little child,' said Teatime, the knife disappearing somewhere about his clothing. 'I believe I have, too.' The others were frozen in place. They hadn't moved since the attack. Medium Dave was a heavy- set man and Teatime was a matchstick model, but he'd lifted Medium Dave off his feet like a feather. 'As far as the money goes, in fact, I really have no use for it,' said Teatime, sitting down on a sack of silver. 'It is small change. You may share it out amongst yourselves, and no doubt you'll squabble and doublecross one another more tiresomely. Oh, dear. It is so awful when friends fall out.' He kicked the sack. It split. Silver and copper fell in an expensive trickle. 'And you'll swagger and spend it on drink and women,' he said, as they watched the coins roll into every corner of the room. 'The thought of investment will never cross your scarred little minds-- -' There was a rumble from Banjo. Even Teatime waited patiently until the huge man had assembled a sentence. The result was: 'I gotta piggy bank.'
'And what would you do with a million dollars, Banjo?' said Teatime. Another rumble. Banjo's face twisted up. 'Buy... a... bigger piggy bank?'
'Well done.' The Assassin stood up. 'Let's go and see how our wizard is getting on, shall we?' He walked out of the room without looking back. After a moment Banjo followed. The others tried not to look at one another's faces. Then Chickenwire said, 'Was he saying we could take the money and go?'
'Don't be bloody stupid, we wouldn't get ten yards,' said Medium Dave, still clutching his face. 'Ugh, this hurts. I think he cut the eyelid... he cut the damn eyelid...'
'Then let's just leave the stuff and go! I never joined up to ride on tigers!'
'And what'll you do when he comes after you?'