After a couple of days of laying low, Victory and her friends had got together at Ethel's house. Her large family were crammed into an upstairs lodgings on Treacle Mine Road but as Ethel was the only girl she had a room to herself, albeit a small one. Seven brothers made enough racket to wake the dead* but at least it meant there was no chance they'd be overheard. In fact, the Washcart Boys weren't at all interested in what Victory's Girls were up to; if it didn't involve foot the ball then it was entirely meaningless.
*(or the undead. Their downstairs neighbour, Reg Shoe, was forever banging on his ceiling with a broom)
Amma had inexplicably managed to get into the room and was wedged into a corner. Ethel had reassured her the multiple scrapes on the walls could be blamed on her siblings. The rest of them were perched on the bed or sat on cushions on the floor and were busily writing on card after card and popping them into a box. The box was identical to the box that held the subjects for tomorrow's debate, as were the cards. The only difference was what was written on them.
"Ok what about this one?" Maisie read back her card, "Lord Vetinari should stand down."
"Donchoo mean sit down?" Amma offered.
Maisie giggled, "No, I mean stand down as Patrician!"
Ethel, Victory and Gertie all held up identical cards. "Great minds," Victory said with a grin. "We can't be doubling up, can we sort through these again?"
Between them they rejected, among others, 'Rock cakes shood b mayd of real rocks', 'Celery Greenfood is a little bitch' and 'Captain Carrot is a total hottie'. This alone took quite some debate to agree upon but finally there was a stack of statements to debate that reflected the flavour of their agenda. And tomorrow it was going to be exchanged for the one Vetinari had put together.
All they required was a little distraction and Victory had one. She just had to smuggle him out without her Mother noticing.
)))
Errol was an unusual looking creature in that he was a dragon, but unlike his majestic looking ancestors appeared to be all runt. His earnest expression, atop which were a pair of enormous eyebrows, dripping over-sized snout and overall smell made him a beast that only a mother could love and Victory's mother loved him to the edge of the disc and beyond. Victory sometimes wondered if her mother loved him a little more than her, but regardless Errol was always very happy to see his Victory. He snuffled, hopped and flapped his tiny wings and sparks popped in the air out of his wet nose.
With the lure of a tin of boot polish she managed to get the little dragon into a shoulder bag and before her parents were even up and awake they were gone, leaving behind just a puff of smoke in the dawn light.