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He
leaned
forward
,
sighting
between
the
dragon
’
s
ears
,
and
his
voice
buzzed
like
a
knife
blade
:
"
What
you
’
ve
got
to
ask
yourself
is
:
Am
I
feeling
lucky
?
"
They
swayed
backwards
as
he
advanced
.
"
Well
?
"
he
said
.
"
Are
you
feeling
lucky
?
"
For
a
few
moments
the
only
sound
was
Lord
Mount
-
joy
Quickfang
Winterforth
IV
’
s
stomach
rumbling
ominously
as
fuel
sloshed
into
his
flame
chambers
.
"
Now
look
,
er
,
"
said
the
leader
,
his
eyes
fixed
hypnotically
on
the
dragon
’
s
head
,
"
there
’
s
no
call
for
anything
like
that
-
"
"
In
fact
he
might
just
decide
to
flare
off
all
by
himself
,
"
said
Vimes
.
"
They
have
to
do
it
to
stop
the
gas
building
up
.
It
builds
up
when
they
get
nervous
.
And
,
y
’
know
,
I
reckon
you
’
ve
made
them
all
pretty
nervous
now
.
"
The
leader
made
what
he
hoped
was
a
vaguely
conciliatory
gesture
,
but
unfortunately
did
it
with
the
hand
that
was
still
holding
a
knife
.
"
Drop
it
,
"
said
Vimes
sharply
,
"
or
you
’
re
history
.
"
The
knife
clanged
on
the
flagstones
.
There
was
a
scuffle
at
the
back
of
the
crowd
as
a
number
of
people
,
metaphorically
speaking
,
were
a
long
way
away
and
knew
nothing
about
it
.
