Feet of Clay (Discworld 19) - Page 220

They backed away and scurried out of the alley.

Carrot turned back to the golem, which had dropped to its knees and was trying to piece its slate together.

'Come on, Mr Dorfl,' he said. 'We'll walk with you the rest of the way.'

'Are you mad?' said Sock, trying to shut the door. 'You think I want that back?'

'He's your property,' said Carrot. 'People were trying to smash him.'

'You should've let them,' said the butcher. 'Haven't you heard the stories? I'm not having one of those under my roof!'

He tried to slam the door again, but Carrot's foot was in it.

'Then I'm afraid you're committing an offence,' said Carrot. To wit, littering.'

'Oh, be serious!'

'I always am,' said Carrot.

'He always is,' said Angua.

Sock waved his hands frantically. 'It can just go away. Shoo! I don't want a killer working in my slaughterhouse! You have it, if you're so keen!'

Carrot grabbed the door and forced it wide open. Sock took a step backwards.

'Are you trying to bribe an officer of the law, Mr Sock?'

'Are you insane?'

'I am always sane,' said Carrot.

'He always is,' sighed Angua.

'Watchmen are not allowed to accept gifts,' said Carrot. He looked around at Dorfl, who was standing forlornly in the street. 'But I will buy him from you. For a fair price.'

Sock looked from Carrot to the golem and then back again. 'Buy? For money?'

'Yes.'

The butcher shrugged. When people were offering you money it was no time to debate their sanity. 'Well, that's different,' he conceded. 'It was worth $530 when I bought it, but of course it's got additional skills now - '

Angua growled. It had been a trying evening and the smell of fresh meat was making her senses twang. 'You were prepared to give it away a moment ago!'

'Well, give, yes, but business is busi - '

'I'll pay you a dollar,' said Carrot.

'A dollar? That's daylight robb - '

Angua's hand shot out and grabbed his neck. She could feel the veins, smell his blood and fear... She tried to think of cabbages.

'It's night-time,' she growled.

Like the man in the alley, Sock listened to the call of the wild. 'A dollar,' he croaked. 'Right. A fair price. One dollar.'

Carrot produced one. And waved his notebook.

'A receipt is very important,' he said. 'A proper legal transfer of ownership.'

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
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