A/N: Gods, I hate this one. I don't know why. It just bothers me. But I'll keep it here, in the (probably false) presumption that someome might care.
The Dangers of Cocoa
Winter bit Ankh-Morpork with vengence. Visit and Reg stumbled numbly into the Watch House from a freezing night patrol.
"Praise Om," Visit muttered, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.
"Go get some cocoa. It'll warm you up," Reg suggested, unaffected by the chill.
Visit blanched visibly.
"What?"
"But Corpral Littlebottom's been making the cocoa lately..."
"And?"
"Let us just leave it at the fact that her cooking is a little too much like her alchemy..."
"Gods, Washpot, even I can tell you're freezing, so you're going drink some cocoa even if I have to hold you down and pour it down your throat."
A small smile crept onto Visit's face. "Alright."
Reg shook his head and grinned back and, slinging an arm around Visit's shoulders, led him off to the cafeteria.