Archive of Our Own

Original drabble:

Vimes didn't like it one bit, even after the man had spent two weeks at the University and everyone had checked him out and assured Vimes he was a regular psychic, maybe a bit more talented than most, but nothing to be worried about, and the only thing strange about him was how he'd arrived.

Vimes only liked it one bit when he turned out to be a copper and knew where that put him in respect to Vimes.

Vimes liked it several bits when Parkman didn't even need to ask the kidnapper where he'd put the little girl.

(by hannahrorlove)

*

How Are the Mighty Fallen: An Instruction Manual

There were two big differences, Matt felt, between Ankh Morpork and New York City. The first was the river: while Matt had of course forbidden Molly to drink the water of the Hudson, at least in New York he knew for sure that the river was, well, liquid. The second was the hotdogs: a good, greasy New York hotdog filled your stomach for the whole day. C.M.O.T Dibbler's would empty it within the hour.

Beyond that, though, they were cities, and it didn't matter if electricity ran through their veins or magic. Cities were bustling streets and merchants and cabs, stock exchanges and banks and back alleys and tourists in flower-patterned shirts. More than anything, cities were people.

And where you had people, you had crime.

"Parkman!"

Matt's attention snapped back to Commander Vimes. "Sir."

"Were you listening at all to what I just said?"

Matt looked at Vimes' scowling, shaded face and opened his mind. Fragments of thoughts drifted in.

...corner of Hide Park and Dimwall Street, say it's a troll been terrorizing the residents for a few weeks now, lynch if we don't get there, last thing I need is another goddamn species war...

"Hide Park and Dimwall, got it," Matt said, already strapping on his truncheon and heading for the door.

"Corporal," Vimes called behind him, and Matt paused. "Dorfl's already at the scene, and if he requested back up it means things are getting out of hand. Control the situation. I don't want to have to deal with mobs."

"The Mob?" Matt asked, puzzled.

"A mob," Vimes grunted. "It's worse."

Mob mentality. Great. The last time Matt had heard an entire crowd mentally chanting Kill! Kill! Kill! Blimey, d'ya see that, his eyeball just ripped right out! he'd wanted to dunk his head in icy water for a week. "I'm on it," he said, and rushed out, skipping down the stairs of the Watch House two at a time.

Dimwall Street was only a few blocks away, and all Matt had to do to locate the place was follow the streams of people homing in on the site, like piranhas having caught a whiff of torn and gory eyeballs.

When he got there, it didn't look good. The crowd was gathered between the muddy northwest corner of the park and Mrs. Stemble's shoe shop, cheering and jeering and, on occasion, screaming hysterically. The doubtfully-washed masses were surrounding a small cobbled square that reminded Matt of a boxing ring. In the center, Matt spotted Constable Dorfl's imposing figure.

Which now looked, Matt felt, slightly less imposing, brandished between the enormous thumb and index figure of a thirty-feet-tall giant.

Matt pushed his way through the crowd, shouting, "Make way! Police!"

(Matt's early attempts in his new post at yelling: "Stop! AMCW!" had all failed spectacularly. Instead of the streets draining of people to allow him a clear way through, passersby would stop him mid-chase to ask, "Are you looking for the Auxiliary Machinery Cooling Water? They moved it to the Tump," or "My good if chubby man, applications for Able-Bodied and Mighty Club of Wizards are closed," or once, memorably, a winking Tooth Fairy popping up from thin air, asking, "Did anyone order an Anthropomorphic Magnificently Cleavaged Woman?")

The clearing, he discovered, was not so much clear as it was strewn with the unconscious bodies of bystanders who presumably lacked the intelligence to actually stand by when faced with a giant on a rampage. "Big guy's first violation of city ordinances," Matt muttered to himself, stepping over a bulked-up groaning man. "No littering."

"Aaaaarguerghaaah!" roared the giant. Dorfl flailed in his grip. "It Is Reassuring To See You, Corporal Parkman!" he called in greeting.

Matt waved back. "You doing okay up there?"

Dorfl gave him a thumbs up.

"Great," Matt replied. "Just hang in there till this is sorted out, okay? ...Literally."

The thoughts of a Golem sounded different from humans'. Human thoughts were like pebbles tossed into a waterfall. Golem thoughts were blocks of stone dropped in a well. Clay, Matt picked up. Untouchable. Exchange. Right. Dorfl's clay body was mostly invulnerable to whatever this giant could do to him; he'd given himself up to distract the giant from the others. Good job. The giant looked preoccupied with his Dorfl doll for now.

"All right, people," Matt said loudly, turning to the crowd. "I'm gonna need everybody to take three steps back. You," he pointed at an angry-looking dwarf. "Tell me. What started this?"

"'S'the troll," the dwarf spit out. "'E just came here an hour ago, started goin' all berserk, y'know? Rapin' and pillagin' all the things troll lobby-sists say they left up in the mountains—"

"Liar!" came a shout from the crowd. "It's not a troll!"

"Is too!"

"Skin's all skinny, not made of rock--"

"It's that monster from the swamp--"

"Always the same dwarfish propaganda--"

"--will rape and pillage your mother, you dirty speciesist--"

"I saw it rip out eyeballs and eat them!"

"I saw him doing Goody Proctor by the lake!"

"--oh, yeah? Well, maybe he's a dwarf!"

That exclamation, at least, managed to silence the racket. The tall young man who'd blurted it out looked like he was trying to curl into himself. "…Or maybe not," he said sheepishly.

"All right," said Matt, rubbing his brow. "Everybody calm down, and tell me if I've got anything wrong: this giant -- not a dwarf, not a troll, just your regular run-of-the-mill giant -- showed up here sometime this morning, and just started knocking down innocent people."

A few nods.

"Without being provoked."

Somewhat uncomfortable nods.

"...At all."

Silence.

Matt glared.

"Well," the same young man from earlier ventured, "some of the children might have teased him a little, maybe."

"Maybe?"

"All in good fun," someone answered quickly, "just some friendly name-calling--"

"--harmless words," the replies came, "and okay, sticks. Maybe stones--"

"--a morning star -- just one, mind you!--"

"--you know how kids can be, just being kids--"

"Yeah," Matt growled, shutting them up. "I think I get the picture."

The giant roared again, possibly causing a small hurricane two blocks away. Matt was shaking his head to clear it when he saw the flash of bright red hair, bobbing jauntily a head above and in between the faceless people, making its way towards him.

"Good morning, Mrs. Spottle, watch that step now -- how is Mr. Spottle? Doctor Axelstaffsonson, h'wxn trht'tt trudzk, oh yes, ha ha. Dear Agate, always a pleasure to see you, it's a shame little Phosphophyllite missed football practice last week, please send my regards, and if it's all right I'll come by tomorrow with a hot cup of gravel cabbage soup. Ah, Corporal Parkman!"

Captain Carrot smiled cheerfully at Matt. It was the only way he knew how.

The first time Matt had met Carrot, he'd been awed not by how simple he looked, but by how simply he thought. There wasn't a thought that passed through Carrot's mind that he didn't openly express, whether in words, in body language, or in a pair of bright blue eyes that could turn the Pope gay. Carrot wore his heart and mind on his sleeves, ironed and perfect and outlining really impressive biceps. He really was transparent.

And now, Carrot was waving at Dorfl. "Hello, Dorfl!" he cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his words. "Good day, Giant!"

Matt couldn't help but listen.

I do hope the giant has a pleasant day!

Jesus, the man's thoughts had exclamation marks. Incredible. It couldn't be an act.

Carrot turned to Matt. "I can see you've got the situation under control! Good work."

"You mean except for the giant who's still on a rampage behind me?"

"Oh, I'm sure we can reason with him."

Carrot took a step forward, but Matt grabbed his arm. "Captain, it's too dangerous. He's beyond reasoning at the moment."

"How do you...?" Carrot started, and Matt tried to subtly point at his own ears. "Oh, dear. In that case, I'm afraid I shall have to resort to force."

A ripple of excitement passed through the crowd. Matt was about to protest, but it was Dorfl who spoke. "Captain Carrot," he called out. His voice vibrated a little from the giant's shaking hand, resulting in the overall effect of a small drill. "My Captor Has Prodded The Buttock Of Trolls, Dwarves, and Bodybuilders Twice Your Size Before You Arrived." He gestured at the bodies littering the ground. "I Do Not Believe That You Can Take Him Down Alone."

Carrot looked displeased, but Matt knew the guy was right. There was no way to take down this giant without a massive tranquilizer or generous amounts of gunpowder, both of which were unavailable. It was a lost battle.

It was a... lost battle.

Matt's eyes widened.

"Whoa," he said.

"Corporal Parkman?" asked Carrot with concern. "What is it?"

Matt's gaze darted back and forth between Carrot and the giant, and then focused on Carrot again. Bright red hair. A head and shoulder above the crowd. Someone had once mentioned a crown-shaped birthmark...

"Okay," Matt said, "I have a plan. I'm... almost sure it'll work."

Carrot rubbed his hands together. "Excellent! Vimes has assured me that you're a learned man. Is the plan based on your studies of General Tacticus?"

"Uh. It's based on my studies of Hebrew S. Kool. Anyway," Matt said quickly, "We're gonna need a slingshot."

Carrot's hand dipped into his chain mail and produced a slingshot. "You mean like this?"

Matt blinked. "Wow. You really are ready for anything."

"'Be Prepared!' is the motto of the Muffins," Carrot said proudly, and Matt heard the unsaid explanation, ...youth movement I coach over in the Shades, the dears. "Their motto used to be 'Prepare Yourself -- For Pain', but the lads have come a long way since then."

"That's great," Matt said. The giant roared again; Dorfl's yelling had gotten him more agitated, and his arms were swinging wildly now, worryingly close to the buildings nearby. Matt didn't think Mrs. Stemble's shoe shop would survive a hit from a Dorfl-shaped sledgehammer. "Okay," he said, "we need to work fast. We need, uh, stones."

A couple of children from the crowd came forward with -- whoa, who the hell let children play with huge, jagged stones? No wonder the giant was pissed off.

"Not those," he said, trying to remember the requirements. "River stones. Smooth."

The stares that met him were confused.

"Um, you know, from the river? The kind where the current erodes the edges, and they become round and smooth?"

The crowd burst into laughter.

"Corporal Parkman," Carrot said gently, "The River Ankh only really has a current for eighteen days out of each year. If you toss stones into the river they won't become smooth, they'll just become... er, alive."

A loud crash shattered through the air. "I Am All Right!" Dorfl assured loudly, and then paused. Matt stared at his torso with horror. "Er, Actually. It Appears I Am All Left."

They had to act now, before all that remained of Dorfl was a scroll of words and some clay dust.

"Okay, people!" Matt shouted. "Does anybody here have anything resembling a river stone? Something small and circular?"

"I have dwarf bread!" someone cried.

Carrot shook his head sternly. "Are you mad? We don't want to kill him!"

An old woman raised her hand. "Will this help?"

Matt squinted at the small, round object she was holding, glinting white in the sunlight. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "Perfect! Pass that forward, please."

As the object traveled to the front of the crowd, snorts and snickers started rising into the air. "Ignore them," Matt told Carrot. "This will work." He hoped.

Carrot took the object carefully from the hairy hand of the dwarf before him ("Thank you, Miss Throatstab!") and placed it in the leather pocket of the slingshot.

"Aim for the center of his forehead," Matt instructed. The chortles coming from the crowd grew even louder.

Carrot frowned. "Are you sure? Other areas of the body are more... vulnerable. If you know what I mean." Carrot's eyebrows were waggling with gusto, and he blushed furiously. It was impossible not to know what he meant.

"I'm sure, Captain." Matt said firmly. "Hebrew S. Kool was very clear about this. Center of the forehead, just keep your arms steady, let your breath out and aim."

Carrot drew the string back, setting his sights on the giant's face. The crowd hushed. Matt held his breath.

"Oh, wait," Carrot said, lowering his weapon. A grating symphony of sighs and grumbles filled the air.

"What?" Matt snapped. Dorfl was about to lose another limb.

"Mr. Giant!" called Carrot. He didn't even have to raise his voice much, Matt noticed now. It carried naturally, like... well. Like a king's. "You! Are! Under! Arrest! Dorfl, inform him of his rights, please!"

...or maybe like a copper's.

"Ready now?" Matt asked. Carrot nodded briskly. "Good. At your leisure, then, as long as that means right now--"

In one smooth motion, Carrot raised the slingshot, pulled back the projectile, and let go. A flash of white sailed across the sky in a perfect arch -- seriously, Carrot must have studied ballistics somewhere -- and hit the giant right between the eyes. As is common for these sorts of occasions, for a moment, it felt like the entire world stood still. Since the bond between physics and drama on the Discworld is rather more profound than in most places, for a moment, this literally happened.

And then, very slowly, the giant toppled to the ground. Dorfl's body landed on the soft, huge belly, wobbled a bit, and finally, after a painstaking silence, raised his left arm in salute. Clutching his right arm in his hand.

The crowd exploded into cheers.

"--knew all along he could do it!"

"Cut his head off!"

"Rip his eyes out!"

"--just unconscious, you bloodthirsty freaks-- "

"Hey! Someone just drank a spoon of Wow-Wow sauce over on Broadway! His entire head's gone purple, and they think his fingers might fall off!"

The citizens of Ankh Morpork considered this piece of information and, taking in a last look of the fallen giant, they made up their minds. The entire process took approximately 0.7 seconds.

The swarm of people disappeared in the distance, a hot smell of sausages wafting behind them.

Cities, Matt thought. People, and crime, and hotdogs on sticks. And heroes, who didn't do what they did to be remembered.

Matt turned to Carrot and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Nice shot."

Carrot smiled. Cheerfully.

*

... Just as Cpl. Parkman directed and the Giannt was Out like a lite, as Nobby put it. I was sorrey for hurting him butt he is all well now as is, Constable Dorfl, whos extremitys have all been Safely Re-atached. Corporal Parkmann's help was invaliouble in this case and, he continnus to be a Fine Young Man to work with, he is a Goode man and a Hero. Commandr Vimes says He will be promotting him to Sargent soon now but, I shovld Not Tell him yet because he does not want Cpl. Parkman to Stopp working so hard but I think, the Real reafon is that Cdr. Vimes does Not Wante to look like a Softie for lyeking him so Muche.

In Other News, I intend to begin studeying the works of the Grate warior Hebrew S. Kool, I am certian they will be very Informative. Sgt. Colon says that, the Journie to Self-improvment is Neverrending.

I am ataching a new ressepy for Cabbage Gravel Souppe that I learned from Sgt. Detritus. I hope all is welle with You and Dadd, and that you do not worry about me!! As you can see, there is no obstakle the Watch cannot over-come when we are standing on the side of Truth, Justice, and One Hard-boiled Egg.

Yrs trly,
Your loving son,
Cpt. Carrot Ironfoundersson.