“Something Vimes had learned as a young guard drifted up from memory. If you have to look along the shaft of an arrow from the wrong end, if a man has you entirely at his mercy, then hope like hell that man is an evil man. Because the evil like power, power over people, and they want to see you in fear. They want you to know you're going to die. So they'll talk. They'll gloat.
They'll watch you squirm. They'll put off the moment of murder like another man will put off a good cigar.
So hope like hell your captor is an evil man. A good man will kill you with hardly a word.”
“I know Eddie is Ralph’s father. Look at the hair. Look at the hair!”
“No Clancy! I swear it’s not true!”
*Eddie walks in holding Ralph’s hand*
“My son’s breath smells like cat food.”
“Okay. You got me.”
“If they call people in India Indians then why don’t they call your people something else.”
“They do. It’s called Native Americans.”
“Whatever.”
“Chloe! You’re being super *toy squeaking* racist right now! What the heck?!”