Commander Vimes was staring at a file in front of him. He stared and stared and stared. It wasn't going anywhere. It wasn't turning into lunch, or a surprised cockatoo, or seventeen notes of music. It was just sitting on his desk. Sooner or later he'd have to read it.
He went out for a few hours, shouted at people, cursed, missed an appointment with Lord Vetinari, and secretly did the Cable Street beat when he thought no-one was watching.
The sun starting to pack up its things and head for the downside of the horizon. Commander Vimes was back at his desk and the bloody file hadn't moved.
Reluctantly, aware if anyone caught him at it they might think he was setting a precedent and give him more gratuitous reading, he snuck a peek at the first page.
It was headed: Uberwaldeans for Old Uberwald- Reactions to the League of Temperance, Vetinari's Foreign Policy and the Entente Cordial between Anhk-Morpork and Uberwald.
He groaned. Anything headed with a title that big meant Further Reading.
The door swished open like a fanfare. Vimes slammed the file shut and leaned on it with his elbows.
"Yes?" he barked, guilt-ridden.
The glowing, ginger giant that was Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson saluted briskly. "You wanted to see us, sir!" Behind him, Sergeant Angua attempted a half-hearted version of the same. She looked tired and tetchy- presumably she had spent a lot of time in Lance-Constable Sally's company.
"Oh- yes." Vimes hesitated, then peeked again at the title, opening the file a miniscule fraction. "Don't grin," he added. "I can hear you grinning, Angua."
"Yesir." Angua sucked at the insides of her cheeks.
"Since you're so cheerful you must be full of snappy answers. What's the Uberwaldeans for Old Uberwald all about?"
"Old order aristocratic Uberwaldeans, sir," Angua said, dryly. Her grin was quite gone as she added, "People like my parents, sir. They want the old days back. For the most part werewolves and vampires."
"Blood-crazed lunatics," Vimes said firmly. "Much of a threat?"
"You've met my parents, Mister Vimes," Angua said woodenly. "Ineffectual, until they get a leader."
"I know what that lack of tone of voice means," Vimes said, grinning horribly and inserting a cigar into said grin. "I know what it means when Vetinari sends me files, when he knows I never read. I also know what it means when I am forced- forced, mark you- to take a witch into the Watch, in case of inverted comma magical crimes inverted comma."
He sat back, much satisfied with this little speech.
Pause.
"Please do tell us what it means, sir," said Carrot, politely.
So much for theatricality, thought Vimes gloomily. "They've got a leader, Carrot," he said wearily. "A good'un too, judging by the amount of red pen in this report. And exclamation marks. Have you ever known any of the Patrician's clerak to use emotional punctuation?"
"Not unless they're writing memos about incorrect filing, sir," Angua replied, smiling.