Jack Vettriano Models in the Studio II

Jack Vettriano Models in the Studio IIJack Vettriano Model in WhiteJack Vettriano Model in White 1993
let me detain you.'
'Er. No. Gods bless yerronner,' said Cumbling Michael, and ran for it.
When the sound of the beggar's boots had died away the Patrician strolled over to the window, stood with his hands clasped behind his out of you since you're here?'
Sometimes Lord Vetinari wondered what had happened to Mr Hong. Everyone knew, of course. In general terms. But not exactly what.
What a city. In the spring, the river caught fire. About once a month, the Alchemists' Guild exploded.
He walked back to his desk and made another brief note. He was rather afraid that he was going to have to have someone killed.
Then he picked up the third movement of Fondel's Prelude in G Major andback, and sighed.There were probably city states, he reasoned, where the rulers only had to worry about the little things . . . barbarian invasions, the balance of payments, assassination, the local volcano erupting. There weren't people busily opening the door of reality and metaphorically saying, 'Hi, come on in, pleased to see you, what a nice axe you have there, incidentally, can I make some money

John William Waterhouse The Magic Circle

John William Waterhouse The Magic CircleJohn William Waterhouse PandoraJohn William Waterhouse Lamia
slid off the bed, spectral nightshirt flapping, and was suddenly pulled up short as though he'd reached the end of a chain. This was more or less the case; a thin line of blue light still tethered him to his late habitation.
The Death of my youngest son, that is. Well, if you can call a card every Hogswatchnight a son. See his wife? Got a smile like a wave on a slop bucket. And she ain't the worst of 'em. Relatives? You can keep 'em. I only stayed alive out of mischief.'
A couple of people were exploring under the bed. There was a humorous porcelain clang. The old man capered behind them, making gestures.
'Not a chance!' he chortled. 'Heh heh! It's in the cat basket! I left all the money to the Rats jumped up and down on the pillow, making urgent slashing movements with its scythe.'Oh, sorry,' said Susan, and sliced. The blue line snapped with a high‑pitched, crystalline twang.Around them, sometimes walking through them, were the mourners. Mourning seemed to have stopped, now the old man had died. The pinch‑faced man was feeling under the mattress.'Look at 'em,' said the old man nastily. 'Poor ole Grandad, sob, sob, sorely missed, we won't see his like again, where did the ole bugger leave his will? That's

Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Valencian Scene

Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Valencian Scene
from the shelf and dropped it into its slot. Then he sighted along the shaft. He turned.
'I like this inventory,' said Nobby. 'We'll take it all.'
The man looked down the sights at Nobby's eye and, to Angua's horrified admiration, didn't faint.
'That little bow don't scare me,' he said.
'This little bow scare you?' said Nobby.
Thomas Moran Sunset on the Moor
' said Carrot.
There was a long, embarrassed silence.
'Um. I chipped in a few dollars each from you new recruits,' he added, blushing. 'I mean . . . you can pay me back when you like. If you want to. I mean . . . you'd be bound to be friends. Once you got to know him.'
The rest of the Watch exchanged
Vincent van Gogh Vegetable gardens at the Montmartre
'em,' said Detritus.
'Who?' said Skully.
'Trolls. Nasty pieces of work in my opinion,' said Detritus, with all the conviction of a troll with a badge. 'They need keeping a eye on.'
'What's happened to Quirke
Vincent van Gogh Landscape at Auvers in the Rain
the city,' said Carrot.

People were streaming past the Watch House. Carrot stopped a couple by the simple expedient of sticking out his hand.
'Mr Poppley, isn't it?' he said. 'How's the grocery business? Hello, Mrs Poppley.'
'Ain't you heard?' said the flustered man. 'The trolls have set fire to the Palace!'
He followed Carrot's gaze up Broad Way, to where the Palace stood squat and dark in the early evening light. Ungovernable flames failed to billow from every window

Thomas Kinkade San Francisco Lombard Street

Thomas Kinkade San Francisco Lombard Street
Flint saluted amateurishly.
'He said he'd kick our goohuloog heads in if we didn't join up and do what we're told, sir,' he said.
'Very old troll oath,' said Detritus. 'Very famous, very traditional.'
'One of 'em could carry the Klatchian fire engine—' Nobby began hopefully.
Francois Boucher An Autumn Pastoral
slander, that is! They just used to spend a lot of time away for polishing and sharpening.'
'Nobby, this is Carrot talking to you. How much time, approximately?'
'Approximately? Oh. About a hundred per cent, if we're talking approximately, sir.'
'Nobby?'
Henri Matisse Luxe I
you to take 'em. Take 'em right away.'
'Good man. Do you have a trolley?'
'And do you happen to know what it is they say about dwarfs?' said Cuddy.
It crept over Angua once again that Carrot had no irony in his soul. He meant every word. If the man had really held out, Carrot would probably have given
Bernhard Gutmann Study of a Woman in Black
point, if you don't mind.'
He gently pushed the siege bow away, but Detritus hadn't liked the crack about people and it kept swinging back again.
'Now,' said Carrot, 'I don't like this element of coercion. We're not here to bully this poor man. He's a city employee, just like us. It's very wrong of you to put him in fear. Why not just ask?'
'Sorry, sir,' said Nobby.

Mark Spain Timeless Beauty

Mark Spain Timeless BeautyMark Spain The Pink DressMark Spain Sevilla
a match, applied it to the tube at the front of the device, and pulled a lever.
They put out the flames eventually.
'Needs a bit of adjustment,' said Nobby, through his mask of soot.
'No,' said Carrot. For the'Really, Nobby?' said Carrot.
'Had a special job, sir. Very responsible.'
'And what was that?'
'Quartermaster, sir,' said Nobby, saluting smartly. rest of his life he'd remember the jet of fire scorching his face en route to the opposite wall.'But it's—''No. It's too dangerous.''It's meant to be—''I mean it could hurt people.''Ah,' said Nobby, 'right. You should have said. We're after weapons that don't hurt people, right?''Corporal Nobbs?' said Sergeant Colon, who'd been even closer to the flame than Carrot.'Yes, sarge?''You heard Corporal Carrot. No heathen weapons. Anyway, how come you know so much about all this stuff?''Milit'ry service.'