We might know when Thud! comes out, but I personally don't see Carrot as twenty-two, so I'm going with twenty-five (although I did expect him to be older, the argument is sound). I haven't read Guards! Guards! and I hope I don't make plot mistakes because of that, but oh well.

I was describing a particularly cold, nasty, fishy fish that my dad likes to my mum and she said it's a rabbitfish. I thought this amusing and went to do research. Turns out here on Roundworld we also have cowfish, pigfish, frogfish, toadfish, catfish, dogfish, wolffish, monkeyfish, turkeyfish, elephantfish, dragonfish, lionfish, mousefish, ratfish, ghostfish, snakefish, flower horn fish and yes, genuine goatfish. I find them all astonishingly ugly and will try to use each at least once!

--

Vimes massaged his temples, staring down at the paperwork on his desk.

"You see what I mean, sir," Carrot said almost apologetically.

"Yes, I do," Vimes replied, "And I don't like it."

The figures didn't add up. Nearly half of Pretty Shiny Things had vanished, and not all the pieces had been found at Flopwaddle's Fish Emporium. Sure, the robin's egg diamonds and chicken egg rubies, or whatever they were, had turned up, as had all the gold necklaces and bracelets, but a few small rings and all the strings of pearls were nowhere to be found.

"I don't understand it, sir, we searched the whole shop. Sergeant Angua says they couldn't hide a grain of salt in there without her finding it."

"We checked Flopwaddle's house, I presume?"

"He lived in the shop," Carrot reminded him. "And he slept in a big empty fish tank."

Vimes sighed. "Stay on the case, Carrot. We'll get to the bottom of this."

Carrot saluted. "Right you are, sir. Ah..." he hesitated, seemed to brace himself, and then asked, "What will you be needing me for on Thursday, sir?"

"Important budget meeting," Vimes said smoothly. "Since Nobby brought it up I decided it's time we discussed the issue. The entire Watch is expected to attend." He looked Carrot in the eye. "And I'm sure I can count on you."

Carrot squirmed.(1)

"Something the matter?"

"It's just that... personal issues, sir."

Vimes frowned. He seemed to be permanently frowning these days. "Angua didn't say anything..."

"It's not Angua, sir," Carrot said quickly, "Just personal. Uh, would it be alright if I took a few days after that off, sir?"

Vimes made a show of squinting, thinking hard and tapping his chin. "We'll have to see about that," he said finally.

Carrot nodded, and left, leaving Vimes with a vaguely uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was obviously bothering Carrot. Something was definitely wrong.

But for now, a more pressing issue. Was Nobby still in the bathroom? Vimes stood up, stretched, and navigated through perilously whole piles of paperwork, dirty coffee cups and brochures Sybil had sent him on a new sort of dragon enclosure. He banged on the bathroom door.

No reply.

Vimes pushed it open tentatively, and heaved a sigh of relief. Empty, and reasonably clean. Even Nobby, he supposed, must get out now and then.

On his way out something caught his eye. Grinning, Vimes retrieved the tin of cocoa and replaced it in its rightful place in the pantry. He wiped sweat from his brow. If stealing from Nobby felt so good, something was definitely wrong with him.

--

Angua was on a ladder, carefully glueing a large sheet of wax paper to the top of a window. Cheery Littlebottom stood at the foot of the ladder, helpfully proffering a pot of glue.

"I drew up the list of refreshments," Cheery was saying. "Ah, here we are: carrot bread, carrot sticks, carrot juice..."

Angua winced. "You think so, Cheery?"

"Sure, it's kind of cute, isn't it?" Cheery hummed a bit.

"Is there anything on that without carrots in it? Meat? Rat?" Angua had to descend two rungs of the ladder just to reach the glue pot.

"Yeah, that's right, spot over there, to your right. Um, I don't know about meat, but I could get fish..." Angua had a roll of paper between her teeth which muffled her groan. "I thought squishi might be good, since it's also the day chopsticks were invented... Is that enough, you think?"

Angua took the roll from her mouth and slapped it the wall. "Beer, Cheery?"

Cheery sighed. "I guess so. I hope it doesn't turn out to be an all-out dwarf party, though."

"Gold, gold, gold, gold?"

Cheery sighed again. "Gold, gold, gold, gold."

"Tonight, then?" Angua said.

"Yep. You just make sure you keep Carrot out of the way."

Angua got off the ladder and they moved to the next window. "Cheery, do dwarves eat birthday cakes?"

Cheery's brow creased. "You want to be careful with dwarf and desserts, Angua."

Angua slapped another sheet of paper down. They had more than half of the windows papered over now. "Desserts?"

"They offend some people," said Cheery seriously. "Particular ones..."

Angua stifled a giggle. "Oh?"

Cheery said, "Like pineapple tarts."

Angua was shocked, which did not happen often. "But those are really good!"

"Well... Carrot brought you to the dwarf bread museum, didn't he? Let's just say that dwarf pastries have... connotations."

Angua sniggered but disguised it with a hard slap to the next unfortunate sheet of paper. "So what do pineapple tarts mean?"

Cheery lips moved as she translated, "Revolting disease of the skin."

Ah, thought Angua to herself, a pineapple tart a-both your houses. Out loud she said, "But birthday cakes are alright?"

Cheery bobbed her head. "Oh yes, they are... peaceful. But for special birthdays only. Dwarves have a lot of birthdays. How old is Carrot?"

Angua bit the inside of her cheek. "What's your best guess?"

Cheery idly stirred the glue. To Angua, it smelt like fish. "Twenty-eight."

"Twenty-eight?"

"You humans age quickly," Cheery shrugged. "Twenty-five?"

"That sounds about right," Angua admitted.

"Why don't you ask him?"

"Because he might guess!"

"Okay, I know," said Cheery brightly. "Put eight candles on the cake for the eight years he's been with the Watch!"

Angua brushed glue thoughtfully onto the back of the last sheet. "You know, that might work."

She pasted the paper firmly over the window and stepped back off the ladder to admire her handiwork. Now the back room was basically moonlight-proof.

"Behind these walls it's fine," she told Cheery again, "but just in case..."

"Should stop gatecrashers too," Cheery agreed. "You know what dwarves party like."

"Thanks a lot, Cheery," Angua said gratefully, for the umpteenth time this week.

"Don't mention it. Ah... here comes Carrot."

"Hello, Cheery," said Carrot cheerily. "Angua, Vimes asked us to go on the long route around Quarry Lane and check on Flopwaddle's again. We're definitely short of loot."

Angua sighed. "Let me get changed."

"Vimes is convinced it's still at Flopwaddle's?" Cheery asked Carrot.

"Oh yes," Angua shouted from the lockers. She violently banged a door shut. "He has a sneaking suspicion that the cowfish have something to hide!"

"It's her PLT," Carrot assured Cheery. "On normal days, I'm sure she gets along fine with the cowfish."

--

The empty shop was faintly lit with the lights from the tanks of the turkeyfish(2). Angua sniffed the air tentatively.

"Want me to hold your clothes for you?" Carrot offered.

"No, not changing," Angua said shortly. "The smells are strong enough." She resisted the urge to throw up. The fish smells were all running together, from a horrible dark yellow(3) to a yellowish-green, and then a greeny-yellowish yellow and a yellowish-greeny-yellow green and then the color of the Ankh(4)-

Still, she could detect a very faint, familiar and welcoming smell. Hey?

"Carrot, are you eating chocolate?"

Carrot blinked. "No, should I be?"

"I'm certain..." Angua let her words trail off and followed her nose. But the chocolate smell was nearly everywhere.

Chocolate?

--

"Okay!" said Cheery shrilly. "Is everyone here?"

"Everyone except Carrot and Angua," someone called out.

"And Nobby!" someone else contributed. There was a roar of laughter.

"Back in the bathroom," Vimes muttered gloomily.

"Good!" Cheery said. "Now, does anyone not know what's happening this Thursday?"

There may have been hands, but Cheery couldn't see them. Undaunted, Cheery continued, "Right, now there's a traditional song dwarves often sing on birthdays, and all of us are going to learn it! I've already translated it and goes like this:

Gold, gold, gold, gold!

Gold, gold, gold, gold!

GOLD! GOLD! GOLD! GOLD!

Happy Birthday, Carrot!

"Did everyone hear that?"

While the Watch decided this among themselves, Cheery shouted, "Now, we'll sing it again and I want you to join in if you can remember!"

They belted out,

Gold, gold, gold, g- are you sure it's gold again?

Oh, right, gold! Gold, gold, gold!

Gold, uh, silver? No, gold! That gold!

GOL- Birthday! Um, whose birthday?

"Um, getting there," Cheery tried to sound encouraging. "We'd better do it again..."

--

Outside Flopwaddle's Fish Emporium, Carrot waited patiently while Angua held a peppermint to her nose and inhaled deeply. She didn't like peppermint, but it was better than fish. Usually the smell of Carrot could cheer her up, but... fish!

"Maybe some property agent walked through eating chocolate," Carrot said. "Prospective buyers, even. It's a good piece of land."

"Fish!" Angua exclaimed bitterly, because there was absolutely nothing else on her mind at the moment. "I hate fish!"

"We'll get you a bowl of steam back at the Watch house," Carrot said kindly.

The Watch house... thought Angua enviously, as they walked back. I wonder how Cheery's faring?

--

"Okay, okay," Cheery hollered, hoarse and an octave lower than usual, "One at a time... yes, Colon?"

"The tune is impossible to sing!" Fred Colon declared magnificently.

"Well, I can do it and I sound even worse than you right now, which is saying something... yes, Detritus?"

Detritus, who had raised a hand timidly, rumbled, "The words are... are diffy-cult to... difficult to..."

"Remember?" Cheery ventured, already afraid of the answer.

There was a pause.

"Yuh," said Detritus.

--(5)

(1) It is a rare trick to be able to squirm really well while still standing up.

(2) Turkeyfish have deep emotional and spiritual needs. Without a light source, they would not only be completely disorientated but live meaningless lives without true purpose, which everyone knows makes their meat disconcertingly gooey.

(3) You know, when you haven't been drinking enough water.

(4) Use your imagination.

(5) No C/A fluff, I know, but maybe some suggestions(5) might help...?

(6) Sorry, love, a shower is a bit tricky, plus the bathroom is presently Nobby's domain.