“Keep it away from me!” barked His Lordship.
William shook his head.
“Oh, yes?” said Otto, still advancing. “You think I am an it? Vell, let me act like an it.”
He grabbed Lord de Worde’s jacket and held him up in the air, with one hand, at arm’s length.
“Ve have people like you back home,” he said. “Zey are the ones that tell the mob vot to do. I come here to Ankh-Morpork, zey tell me things are different, but really it is alvays the same. Alvays zere are damn people like you! And now, vot shall I do with you?”
He wrenched at his own jacket, and tossed the black ribbon aside.
“I never liked zer damn cocoa anyvay,” he said.
The vampire turned.
“Yes, Villiam? Vot is it you vish?”
“That’s going too far.” Lord de Worde had gone pale. William had never seen him so obviously frightened before.
“Oh? You say? You think I bite him? Shall I bite you, Mister Lordship? Vell, maybe not, because Villiam here thinks I am a good person.” He pulled Lord de Worde close, so their faces were a few inches apart. “Now, maybe I have to ask myself, how good am I? Or maybe I just have to ask myself… am I better zan you?” He hesitated for a second or two, and then in a sudden movement jerked the man towards him.
With great delicacy, he planted a kiss on Lord de Worde’s forehead. Then he put the trembling man back down on the floor and patted him on the head.
“Actually, maybe zer cocoa is not too bad and zer young lady who plays zer harmonium, sometimes she vinks at me,” he said, stepping aside.
– Otto Chriek |
Terry Pratchett, The Truth