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"
Get
your
pig
sausages
,
five
for
two
dollars
!
"
said
Throat
,
who
never
let
a
conversation
stand
in
the
way
of
trade
.
"
Could
be
good
for
business
,
could
monarchy
.
Pig
sausages
!
Pig
sausages
!
Inna
bun
!
And
righting
all
wrongs
,
too
.
Sounds
like
a
solid
idea
to
me
.
With
onions
!
"
"
Can
I
press
you
to
a
hot
sausage
,
ma
’
am
?
"
said
Nobby
.
Lady
Ramkin
looked
at
the
tray
around
Throat
’
s
neck
.
Thousands
of
years
of
good
breeding
came
to
her
aid
and
there
was
only
the
faintest
suggestion
of
horror
in
her
voice
when
she
said
,
"
My
,
they
look
good
.
What
splendid
foodstuffs
.
"
"
Are
they
made
by
monks
on
some
mystic
mountain
?
"
said
Carrot
.
Throat
gave
him
an
odd
look
.
"
No
,
"
he
said
patiently
,
"
by
pigs
.
"
"
What
wrongs
?
"
said
Vimes
urgently
.
"
Come
on
,
tell
me
.
What
wrongs
is
he
going
to
right
?
"
"
We
-
ell
,
"
said
Throat
,
"
there
’
s
,
well
,
taxes
.
That
’
s
wrong
,
for
a
start
.
"
He
had
the
grace
to
look
slightly
embarrassed
.
Paying
taxes
was
something
that
,
in
Throat
’
s
world
,
happened
only
to
other
people
.
"
That
’
s
right
,
"
said
an
old
woman
next
to
him
.
"
And
the
gutter
of
my
house
leaks
something
dreadful
and
the
landlord
won
’
t
do
nothing
.
That
’
s
wrong
.
"
"
And
premature
baldness
,
"
said
the
man
in
front
of
her
.
"
That
’
s
wrong
,
too
.
"
Vimes
’
s
mouth
dropped
open
.
