This is my first fic so it's just a short one to help me get into practice and establish characters. My favourite characters are the watch so I wrote this as what I imagined a short moment in their lives would be when various nefarious (I did a rhyme) persons are trying to kill them.
All as it should be
For a blissful hour or two very early in the morning Ankh-Morpork lies under a sea of silence thicker than a troll with his head in an oven. Even certain people with a talent for lurking in dark alleyways and names like Nick 'Twelve noses' Jones* had gone to bed and the day shift had not yet poked battered noses out into the soupy light of dawn. However if you stood at the gate of a certain house on Scoone Avenue you would have heard a noise like a cement mixer** trying to masticate a bag of rocks.
His Grace Sir Samuel Vimes was halfway through a Sybil Special. He began to rhythmically pound his second rasher of bacon with his fork, if he was really lucky this could take up to a minute to crack. Vimese bacon was famous, a worryingly intelligent man in glasses had features it in a song about the inevitable event of the Disc's sun crashing into it and all life being extinguished in one spectacular go, except no-one would be left to admire it. It went something like this
'We will all fry together when we fry,
We'll be his Grace's breakfast bacon by and by'
It was quite popular at the funerals of people who were proud of their sense of humour.
Further down the table Young Sam was showing early signs of a talent for interior decoration. The current scheme included a calming Yoghurt tone with texture in the form of Wheatabix and banana*** for depth to really give it that wow factor.
*None of which were attached to him
**Known to residents of the Disc as an Inexplicably-bright-orange-device-for-mixing-stuff-made-of-sand-and-water-that-sticks-bricks-togetther
***Or as he called Bannannannannanna…na
On the corner of Treacle Mine road was a cardboard sign that spelt out the words:
This little doggy was put in a sack and
dropped in the Ankh when he was just
a puppy. His undying love, loyalty and
devotion gave him the strength to walk
ashore and chew his way free. He is
still looking for someone to love forever.
Please show your support for nice little
Doggies like him.
Next to it sat Gaspode, which slightly spoiled the effect.
Captain Carrot was to be found somewhere behind a mountain* of paperwork, scribbling furiously with the tip of his tongue poking out and that mildly unnerving expression you get on certain type of person when they are Doing Their Job and Enjoying It.
*Ben Nevis rather than Everest, he had been at it for about an hour.
Downstairs in the Forensics Lav there was a sound rather like 'Whump' and a medium sized cloud of greyish smoke. When it cleared you could see Cheery with neatly plucked brows furrowed in concentration at some blue, sparkly powder in a crucible* After a few experimental prods she picked up a small mirror and began carefully applying it to her eyelids.
*Their was a picture on the side, it was of a kitten, the only question was if it had looked concussed before being pressed into service.
The shift rota on the wall showed that Angua was out on patrol, a few streets away the first scream of the day broke the unnatural silence to the tune of :
'Argh! Argh! Argh! It's got my foot!'