DISCLAIMER: Terry Pratchett owns everything. I don't.
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Recruitment
Vimes had seen a lot of strange people, but Susan Sto Helit seemed to top the list.
She sat straight in her chair, white hair with a black streak pulled back in a neat bun. Her eyes seemed to bore right into him.
"Says here…you used to be a governess and a children's teacher?" He raises his eyebrows.
"I know what you're thinking, commander, but I think I would be good in the Watch."
"How?"
"Well, I can walk through walls, for one. And stop time. And talk in Death's voice."
"Death's voice…?"
LIKE THIS.
"Ah, that would be it."