The cobbled street sweltered under the mid-day sun. The normally surging crowds were gone, leaving only the few that had to be out in the intense heat. They kept to the shadows, and hurried. Despite the heat, there were a few people who seemed to ignore the heat.
"Why do you reckon there is no-one around?" asked Sharon.
"No idea." answered Shortie.
"Strange isn't it, seeing that this is the first warm day we've had since we got here." said Sharon.
"Might be different for these people. Might be, cause they drink warm beer, they cant stand the heat?" suggested Bruce.
"'Mad dogs and Moporkians go out in the mid-day sun'?" quoted Kazza.
"Possibly. Is it mid-day yet?"
As if caused by that * the assorted bells and chimes of the cities guilds started up.
"Yep"
While they were talking, they had been wandering at random though the city streets. One the group looked up.
"Sweetheart Lane" he commented. "That's a nice name for an alley".
A group of men suddenly surrounded them.
The one with the most interesting scars spoke up.
"Your money or your life. It may be your life as well, understand?"
The Exians looked at him with interest. Then they looked at the men. Then they looked at each other.
"You know, I reckon we're being held up." said Sharon.
"Hang on, this bloke back ont the ship was saying that they had legal theft here."
"Yeah, so do we. That's why we chuck the politicians in prison as soon as they are elected." interrupted Shortie.
"And why we chuck the lawyers off the Stations Pier." said Bruce.
"No no no no, this was organised crime. You pay the thieves guild some money, they leave you alone. But they have to show a receipt."
The muggers looked at one another. This wasn't how it was meant to go.
"You mean that we have to be mugged?" an Kazza said incredulously.
"Err. I'm not sure about that." he turned to the chief mugger. "So are you blokes official thieves?"
"No, were...freelancers." he said, trying to regain the initiative.
"So if you disappeared, no one would officially care?"
"Err. Probably."
Shortie turned back to his group.
"Bit like Tin-head-Ned I think."
"Oh good." said Sharon. She let fly with a right hook that knocked the chief mugger into the wall. The rest of the Exians dealt short work with the other muggers.
"I heard what they do to unofficial thieves here." said Bruce.
"Yeah?'
"Yeah. They nail them by their ears to the city gates. Teaches them not to do it again."
Behind them the muggers made a short groaning pile.
"But didn't we do the same thing? Unofficially I mean."
"Yeah, and saved on the nails!"
The Exians disappeared around the corner. One of the muggers spoke up.
"Uhh, boss? What just happened?"
"Weh goot ugged" explained the chief mugger, looking around for his teeth.
"Ahh. Ain't we the muggers?" asked Red-Head-Dave.
"-ot -oday"
"Ok" said one of the muggers as they fell into unconsciousness.

"Anything else, Corporal?" asked Vimes, writing a note.
"Yes sir, a rather strange matter. You know Gold Teeth Bill? Runs that muggers group around Sweetheart Lane?" asked Corporal Cheri.
Vimes looked up.
"Yes."
"You know how we and the Thieves' Guild could never get enough evidence to get them?"
"Yes, go on." prompted Vimes.
"Well, it seems that someone got to them. Visit and Dorfl found them, beaten up. Very well beaten up, you could say."
"How bad?" Vimes asked, tapping the pencil on the desk.
"Well, Gold Teeth Bill will now be known as Toothless Bill, Red Head Dave will walk with a funny step, and the rest of them all got injuries of some kind or another."
Vimes thought for a moment. Then he asked. "What weapons were used, Cheri?"
"Err, as far as Igor and I can tell, none."
"None?"
"Well, I think they were beaten up using fists and feet. Whoever hit them wasn't wearing any rings, but they were wearing heavy boots."
"Hmm." Vimes turned and stared out the window.
"Cheri, what ships docked this morning?"
Cheri blinked, and flipped through her clipboard.
"I don't have that information sir. How soon do you want it? I'll have to go down to the Cockbill St Office to get it."
"No, send a clacks. I want to know as soon as possible."
Cheri nodded and left. Vimes stared out the window, then at the photo of his wife and daughter on the desk. Sighing, he checked his watch, and got back to his paperwork.

The Exians had settled down in a bar.
"What we'll do right," explained Sharon, "is get jobs here, and also have a look around. You're supposed to be able to buy anything here."
Shortie looked up.
"Books?" he asked eagerly.
"Probably. Although I don't know why you like reading so much." Kazza said.
Shortie shrugged. The waiter bought the beer. They examined the glasses incredulously.
"Err, excuse me." said Sharon. The waiter turned around. "We wanted beer, not ale." One of the Exians muttered "or soup".
The waiter scowled. "You ordered beer, you got beer."
One of the Exians turned his glass upside down to see what would happen. Nothing did.
"We ordered beer, not road tar." Sharon said.
"You don't like it, you can lump it" said the waiter.
"No worries." commented Sharon. Grabbing the waiter by the shoulder, she spun him around. Bruce ferreted in the waiters pouch and took the money for the beers out.
The waiter protested. "That's theft! I didn't see any licence."
"We ordered beer, we didn't get beer. So we took our money back. You can keep the tar." Sharon explained. Dropping the waiter, the Exians walked out of the bar. Shortie left the glass upside down on the table. The substance hadn't moved.

"Mister Vimes?"
Vimes looked up. Cheri was standing by the door.
"Yes?"
"You wanted to know which ships had docked this morning?"
"Ah, yes."
"The Sun Over the Water, registered Hung-Hung, The Business Venture, Klatch, and the Shelia registered-"
"Four-exes."
"Yes sir. How did you know?"
"By the prickling in my thumbs. Put up on the tower that the suspects on this mornings incident are a group of Exians, probably arrived this morning. "
Cheri nodded uncertainly and left the room.

The Exians turned a corner. The square in front of them was covered with traders, stalls and various people shouting at the top of their voices. Shortie nudged a trader.
"Excuse me, where's Exian House?" he asked. The trader looked at him.
"Want a sausage? Inna bun?" he asked. Shortie looked down at the tray.
"Sausage?" he asked in disgust. The others crowded around.
"Yes, made from genuine pig products. Only 5p a bun, and that's cutting me own throat."
Kazza had a closer look at the offerings.
"Pig products?" she asked in amazement.
"By-products surely?" interrupted Bruce.
"People actually buy these?" wondered Shortie.
"Err. Yeah. Sometimes anyway." CMOT replied, getting a bit worried. These people were inspecting the sausages like he would a shonky dollar.
"Lots of people?" Shortie said wonderingly.
"Yeah." CMOT said, looking for a way out.
"You know, I reckon if you can sell these sausages a 5p a bun out of your tray, you should be able to sell them for 5 bucks if you put them in a cardboard box with bright colours on it." Shortie commented.
"Yeah, and have bright colours, and maybe a clown..." added Sharon.
"You could call it...McGenua style burgers!" Kazza said happily.
CMOT thought about this for a moment. "Yeah, I can see it now. Hard seats so people wont stay to long. Cold chips, and charge a lot for it."
"And you could put toys in the children's meals, so that they would pester their parents to take them to, what did you call it? McGenua style burgers."
CMOT's eyes lit up with dollar signs. He rushed off down the street. The Exians shrugged, and looked for someone else to ask.
"What about that guy over there?" Bruce suggested.
"Which one?"
"The tall guy with the badge." He pointed out a tall red-headed man with armour on. He seemed to be reading one of the semaphore towers that dotted the skyline. They headed over.
"Excuse me, officer?" Kazza began. The man looked down, and did a double take.
"Excuse me, could you come with me please? My boss would like to talk with you." he asked. They shrugged.
"What's your name?" asked Shortie.
"Me?" The man asked. "I'm Captain Carrot, Ankh-Morpork City Watch."
"So your boss's boss is the Boss?" Sharon asked. "And he wants to see us?"
"Why not?" Bruce suggested. "We might find a decent pub on the way. One that serves decent beer anyway"
"Lead the way officer." They started down the square, towering over most of the dwarf and humans.
Carrot had been thinking.
"What kind of beer?" he asked.
"Beer that you can't use for filling potholes." explained Kazza.
"That will actually pour" added Bruce.
"That you don't have to eat with a spoon." suggested Shortie.
"Beer with an alcoholic content?" asked Sharon.
"Ahh, you mean Exian beer?" said Carrot. "In here please."
Shortie looked up at the motto. "Make my day, punk?" he translated.
Carrot shrugged. "It's been the motto for centuries. No one really wants to change it to-" "Something more fitting the multi-cultural environment of the modern city?" Shortie suggested.
"Possibly." Carrot knocked on a door, then entered.
"Sir, you wanted to see these people?" he asked, before standing against the wall.
Vimes looked up from his desk.
"Ahh, yes. Do you have an explanation of your assault on some Ankh-Morpork citizens this morning?" He looked at them over steepled hands.
They looked at each other.
"Which ones?" Sharon asked.
"Some...individuals on Sweat Heart Lane, possibly. Although as Commander of the City Watch, I of course would be interested in any other assaults."
They looked at each other again.
Then they all spoke at once.
"Self defence?"
"Get them before they get you?"
"Citizen's Justice?"
"Cleaning up the city?"
Vimes sighed.
"I can see your point. However I don't like people causing problems in my city. Also a Tavern owner has made a complaint over theft from him."
Shortie spoke up.
"What was the total, Duke?"
"Mister Vimes please. 80p."
"But we left the beer behind." Shortie protested.
"If you can call it that" one of them muttered.
"Ok, you are free to go. Just don't cause any more trouble, understand." Vimes scowled. "That's the last thing I need."
"We don't want any trouble, we just want to have a look around." Sharon protested.
Vimes shrugged.
The Exians left, talking to Carrot about Exian pubs. Vimes sighed. He needed more recruits, the Watch was expanding again. It meant more faces, more coverage of the streets, but it also meant more paperwork. He got back to it.
 

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Footnotes:
* And it could be true. On the Discworld(tm) people saying the right thing at the right time can make things happen. Take the example of Limp Bill (He had a limp. He was not limp.) One day, talking with some other members of the Beggars Guild, he said "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride." To his brief astonishment, a horse landed on him. However there is a silver lining to every cloud, being crushed by a horse fixed his limp leg.