Author's Note: Argh, this story won't leave me alone! After I posted Dolf's questionnaire yesterday, I kept thinking, what if Lord Vetinari really did do some of those things it said? So here it is…

"I'm not quite sure why we're doing this, sir."

Lord Vetinari sighed and gave his secretary an exasperated look. "We are here, Drumknott, because in order for me to continue ruling Ankh-Morpork as a benevolent dictator I must find some way of exorcising any tyrannical inclinations I may develop."

"Yes, my lord, I understand that; what I don't understand is why that involves building a fort out of all the pillows I could find in the Palace."

"It's not a fort, Drumknott; it's my Secret Municipal Fortress of Doom. Now put on your little hat."

Drumknott put on the hat reluctantly. He was starting to get worried about this.

Vetinari looked at him critically and slightly adjusted the way the hat was sitting on Drumknott's head. "There, that's better. I always thought gold braid would suit you; you have exactly the right colouring, you know."

"Thank you, my lord."

"Now, let's see if I can get this right…" Vetinari cleared his throat. "…ha ha ha."

Drumknott frowned. "I'm not sure if you've got the tone quite right, sir."

"No, you may be right there." He took a deep breath. "Hahaha!" He gave Drumknott an inquiring look. "Any better?"

"Not really, sir. Perhaps you simply need the right inspiration."

"Possibly. Okay, inspire me then, my arch-lieutenant of the filing cabinet."

"Your arch—what?" Drumknott asked incredulously.

"My arch-lieutenant of the filing cabinet," Vetinari repeated. "I have to give all my henchmen titles, Drumknott. I just thought you might like one that sounds important."

Drumknott gave him an embarrassed grin. "Why thank you, sir, I don't know what to say--"

Yes, yes," Vetinari waved a hand impatiently. "Now hurry up and inspire me; it's very important that I get this right."

"Yes, sir. Okay, now close your eyes…"

Vetinari closed his eyes.

"…And picture yourself in your office…"

"My command centre," Vetinari murmured.

"Yes, okay, your command centre…Now in walks Commander Vimes of the Watch, without knocking first…"

"Commander Vimes, Grand-Enforcer of my Battalions of Law."

"Yeah, whatever…he's walked in and he's annoyed some of the Guild Leaders…" continued Drumknott.

"Uh huh." Vetinari's mouth twitched.

"…And he's upset the ambassador of Llamedos again…"

"Hmm." The Patrician's body was shaking slightly.

"…And now he's demanding a pay rise for his men…"

"Guards! Drag him to Sator Square and behead him immediately!" Vetinari screamed suddenly. He threw back his head. "Bwahahahaha!!"

Drumknott clapped. "Well done, sir!"

Vetinari took a deep breath and smiled. "There, I knew I would manage it eventually. Now, how are you doing with the special training I asked you to undertake?"

Drumknott blushed. "Ah, well, you see, sir…that isn't going so well."

"And why not?"

"Well, Mrs Palm is teaching me the…techniques you've requested, but the thing I'm supposed to do with my sock, sir…" Drumknott grimaced. "It's--it's obscene. Plus Mrs Palm keeps laughing at me when I try to do it."

"Nothing worth knowing is easy to learn, Drumknott. Besides, she may not be laughing, maybe she's coughing, very quietly."

"No, she's definitely laughing, sir. She laughed so hard yesterday that she fell off her chair. Then she brought in a group of trainees to watch me and they laughed too, sir." Drumknott's face flushed as the memory of thirty giggling faces came back to haunt him. "To tell you the truth, sir, I'm not even sure why you would want me to know how to do that sort of thing; and it's not as if I usually wear glasses anyway."

"Because, Drumknott, a man in your position needs some additional skills in order to fulfil your role fully. Besides, I did promise you on-the-job training when you took up the position, didn't I?"

"Yes, but I didn't realise what kind of job you were referring to at the time, sir."

Vetinari smiled. "I need you to learn those skills because I may need you to use them one day against anyone who may threaten me or my command centre."

"Even against Mr Slant?"

"Even against…" Vetinari gave Drumknott a grave look. "…Corporal Nobbs."

Drumknott looked panicked. "Surely not, sir! I—oh gods, I'm going to be sick!" He suddenly got up and rushed out of the room, his hand clenched tightly over his mouth.

Vetinari sighed. "Young people today…" he muttered, getting to his feet and brushing off his robes. He quickly made his way up to his office where William de Worde was sat waiting for him.

"Ah, Lord Vetinari," William said, nodding his head slightly. "I wondered if you'd forgotten your interview with the Times was today."

Vetinari sat down in his chair and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't forget, Mr de Worde, I was simply otherwise engaged. Of course, I apologise if my lateness has caused you some inconvenience."

William smiled nervously at the slight edge in the Patrician's voice. "No problem, my lord," he looked down at his notebook. "Now about this interview…Ah yes, what are your views on the recent Watch involvement regarding the recent events in Koom Valley?"

"I understand that Commander Vimes and his men were in pursuit of several suspects at the time, Mr de Worde. While their involvement did bring to light some factors which I hope will only contribute to the current spirit of cooperation between the Low King and the Troll clans, the Watch's involvement in the subsequent negotiations has been minimal at best. Plus I feel it is not prudent to comment further on such events until they are properly resolved."

"Uh huh," William quickly scribbled down the last of Lord Vetinari's words then looked up at him, a predatory look in his eye. "Then perhaps I could ask you about something else instead, my lord: Reacher Gilt."

Vetinari gave William a blank look. "What about Mr Gilt?"

"Are you aware of the current rumours circulating that he is back in the city? And that you've given him a job as the Palace Gardener?"

"I can assure you that those rumours are not only unsubstantiated but they are inaccurate as well."

"Really? Well what about the other rumours that you had him killed?" William smiled. "Or are those inaccurate too?"

Lord Vetinari simply stared at the Times reporter.

William gave him a puzzled look. "Are you going to answer the question, my lo—ack!" Suddenly he clutched at his throat and gasped. "Ack—I—can't—breathe!"

Vetinari raised an eyebrow. "Really, Mr de Worde?" he said calmly. "Perhaps you had better go and get yourself a glass of water."

"Ye—ack…" William attempted to choke out a reply before rushing out the room.

Lord Vetinari smiled. "Oh dear, he's left his notebook…" The Patrician reached across the desk, opened it to a new page and picked up a pen. 'There was a young woman from Sto Lat/ who really was massively fat/ She sat on her chair/ and fell through it there/ and squashed her poor little cat', he wrote in a careful, copperplate hand.

He placed the notebook back on the desk and took a small key from his pocket. Touching an inconspicuous part of the wall, he stepped through the panel that slid open and began to make his way to Leonard's rooms.

"Duck, my lord!"

Vetinari ducked for cover as something crashed into the wall above his head. Leonard gave the Patrician a sheepish grin as he picked bits of splintered wood off his head. "Sorry about that, my lord; I still can't get the steering system to work properly."

"So I see."

"Are you here about your portrait?"

"Yes," Vetinari said. "I was wondering how it was progressing."

"The preliminary sketches are finished," said Leonard. "Would you like to see?"

"If you don't mind." Leonard led him over to a large canvas and easel set up in the corner. Vetinari looked at his work thoughtfully. "It's certainly an interesting composition."

"You don't like it?"

"I never said that," said Vetinari quickly. "I was just wondering though; why am I naked in it? I distinctly remember I was fully-clothed at the time."

"Yes, but I was going for the classical approach, my lord."

"But you've never seen me naked, Leonard, how do you know what I look like without my clothes on?"

"Oh, I just guessed, my lord," replied Leonard cheerfully. He suddenly looked at the canvas inquisitively. "Why, did I get something wrong?"

"No, you got everything right, even that little scar on my stomach. That's why I asked."

"Oh, okay." Leonard smiled. "Of course you'll actually have to be naked when I paint it, my lord. In order to get the shadowing correct."

"The shadowing from the strip of cloth you've drawn around my naked form, I assume?" asked Lord Vetinari.

"Yes, well, accuracy in these matters is important, my lord," said Leonard, absent-mindedly as he picked up a pencil and began to draw in the background of the portrait. "Were there any other queries you had?"

Vetinari hesitated. "Well, maybe just one; why am I grinning?"

"You don't think you should be?"

"It's just that I'm not usually known for it. Staring, yes; grinning, no."

"True, but I do feel the teeth add a certain something," said Leonard.

Vetinari sighed. "I know you've worked very hard on this, Leonard, but I did ask you for a portrait of me looking very powerful, intelligent and deeply evil. Instead I've got a picture of me standing naked in front of my office window, holding a piece of cloth between my legs while looking out at the viewer and grinning like a madman." He paused for a moment then shrugged. "Same effect, I suppose."

"So you'd like me to continue, my lord?"

"Yes please, Leonard." Lord Vetinari pulled off his outer robe and held it out with one arm as he started to undo the buttons at his collar. "Now, where would you like me to put my clothes?"