A/N: This is my space to rant! Rantage! Wooooooot! Sometimes I think that I'm too much of a doormat... people take advantage of me without realizing it, and even -I- don't realize it 'till later. Is this a problem?
Chapter 7
"hWell," Louisa said breathlessly, adjusting her dress. "That hwas interesting, hwasn't hit?"
"That was an emergency?" Grey asked faintly.
"He hwas... CRAWLING all over me," Louisa sniffed. "Ai think Ai had a hright."
"Poor ma- bo- Watchman," Roberta sighed. "I doubt his jaw will ever look the same again."
"That's a mercy," Theodora said, and the four Seamstresses erupted in giggles.
"So you're Miss Mason now?" Ridcully said.
Grey gave a nervous smile. "Um, no, still just Grey," she answered, poking her wig.
"And the reason all these fine ladies are here is...?"
"Me," Grey said miserably. "I thought I knew what I was doing, I thought I could control it, I thought that as long as I didn't inhale... er, ah, I mean, that is..." She sighed. "Look, do you have anyone here named Rincewind?"
Ridcully's enormous forehead wrinkled. "As in the cheese boy?" he asked. "Three pounds of mature Rincewind?"
"Um. Yes?" Grey ventured.
"He must be around here somewhere, why?"
"Well, you know his kind of desk?..."*
Vimes squirmed uncomfortably.
"You say it was an apprentice Seamstress that fell into the Ankh?" Vetinari asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Her name?"
"Grace Mason, sir."
The Patrician arched an eyebrow as he looked through several papers on his desk. "There... does not appear to be a 'Grace Mason' anywhere on the Seamstresses Guild member list," Vetinari said, giving Vimes a Look. "Indeed," he added, running his finger down a list of what looked quite a bit like names and addresses, "there seem to be only three Grace Masons in the entire city, each over the age of seventy-five."
"So what we have here is..."
"... An impostor, yes, although don't ask me what or who she's impostoring," Vetinari said. He gave Vimes an on/off smile. "Luckily it isn't Mud Monsters anymore."
_________
* I've never actually READ the Science of the Discworld, so I don't know what Roundworld looks like, etc. So if some kind soul could perhaps gently push me into the right direction...?
Chapter 7
"hWell," Louisa said breathlessly, adjusting her dress. "That hwas interesting, hwasn't hit?"
"That was an emergency?" Grey asked faintly.
"He hwas... CRAWLING all over me," Louisa sniffed. "Ai think Ai had a hright."
"Poor ma- bo- Watchman," Roberta sighed. "I doubt his jaw will ever look the same again."
"That's a mercy," Theodora said, and the four Seamstresses erupted in giggles.
"So you're Miss Mason now?" Ridcully said.
Grey gave a nervous smile. "Um, no, still just Grey," she answered, poking her wig.
"And the reason all these fine ladies are here is...?"
"Me," Grey said miserably. "I thought I knew what I was doing, I thought I could control it, I thought that as long as I didn't inhale... er, ah, I mean, that is..." She sighed. "Look, do you have anyone here named Rincewind?"
Ridcully's enormous forehead wrinkled. "As in the cheese boy?" he asked. "Three pounds of mature Rincewind?"
"Um. Yes?" Grey ventured.
"He must be around here somewhere, why?"
"Well, you know his kind of desk?..."*
Vimes squirmed uncomfortably.
"You say it was an apprentice Seamstress that fell into the Ankh?" Vetinari asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Her name?"
"Grace Mason, sir."
The Patrician arched an eyebrow as he looked through several papers on his desk. "There... does not appear to be a 'Grace Mason' anywhere on the Seamstresses Guild member list," Vetinari said, giving Vimes a Look. "Indeed," he added, running his finger down a list of what looked quite a bit like names and addresses, "there seem to be only three Grace Masons in the entire city, each over the age of seventy-five."
"So what we have here is..."
"... An impostor, yes, although don't ask me what or who she's impostoring," Vetinari said. He gave Vimes an on/off smile. "Luckily it isn't Mud Monsters anymore."
_________
* I've never actually READ the Science of the Discworld, so I don't know what Roundworld looks like, etc. So if some kind soul could perhaps gently push me into the right direction...?