It was a dark and smokey bar. Not because it had to be, but because it was the way that it's patrons liked it.
"Did you hear about Gold-teeth-bill?" someone asked.
"No teeth bill now!" chuckled another.
"But who did it?" the first person asked.
"Some hicks from Four-exes I heard." Said a voice from the corner.
MINE'S A PINT said a robed figure.
"I hate exians" muttered someone by the bar.
A few shapes in the corner froze.
AND MAKE IT QUICK, BARTENDER
"What did you say?" one of the people in the corner asked.
"I hate those bloody exians!' the man repeated. "They come over here, take our jobs, and those accents! I hate those accents!"
"Really? No Worries then, I can fix that!" said a voice from the corner, over the noise of his crossbow firing.
'Oh damm.' Said the shade of the drinker.
YOU SHOULD LEARN TO LISTEN. WELL, THAT IS A BIT REDUNDANT.
'But I was only saying what I thought!' he protested.
THE EXIANS ALSO BELIEVE IN FREE SPEECH. PART OF THAT FREE SPEECH IS THE RIGHT OF REPLY.
'But he replied with a crossbow bolt'.
FORCEFULL INTENT? ANYWAY, COME ALONG.
'Where?"
WHO KNOWS. IT IS, AFTER ALL, YOUR AFTERLIFE.

Sharon, Kazza, Bruce and Shortie sat around a table in Exian House.
"Finally, some real beer!" Sharon enthused.
Shortie got up and checked the job board.
"Letsee now, Butcher, Baker, End teaser and dipper, sounds painfull, street collection, bartender.  That's all that's up there today."
He sat down again.
"Well, what do we do now?" Kazza asked.  Behind her, the barman added another note to the job board.  Shortie squinted.
"Be a Individual of your choice, join the city watch".
They thought about this.  They drank the beer.
"Sounds good." Sharon mumbled.
They looked at each other.  They knew what that meant.  It meant, convince me.
"It means eating." suggested Shortie.
"And sleeping indoors" added Kazza.
"And more beer!" enthused Bruce.
"All right then, where do we have to go?" sighed Sharon.
Kazza leaned back and pulled the note from the board, then handed it to Shortie.  He scanned it.
"All Aplicants have to apply in person to Duke Samual Vimes, Psudoplis Yard.  No worries, that's where that copper took us just before."
"Lets go then."
They finished their beers, and left the room.

"What do you want?" Vimes demanded, seeing them in front of him
"A job." grinned Shortie.
Vimes sighed.
"What makes you think that you can be Watchmen?" Vimes demanded.  Carrot whispered in his ear.
"Then again, the Cable Steet Particulars does need some new members...." he mused.
"What happend to the last ones?" Shortie wondered.
"Ohh, Constable Parish and Constable Sascha are all right.  We're just expanding that's all.  Ok, your in."
Vimes flipped them a coin each.
"What's this mean?"
"It means you've got he job.  Carrot, take them though basic training."  Carrot sauluted, and left the room.  The Exians followed him, mimicing his style of walking.  Vimes sighed.
'Waifs and Bloody Strays' he thought, not for the first time.
'No normal person joins the watch, that's for sure."#

"This is your official pike, or halberd" began Sergeant Colon.
"Why?" interrupted kazza.
"Why what?" asked Colon
"Why do we need a pike?" she repeated.
"They are only good for knocking people of horses" said Bruce.
"And a crossbow does just as good a job, and you're unlikely to get whacked with your own crossbow." added Shortie.
Colon stared at the pike as if he hadn't seen it before. He had never thought of it like that.
"Umm, cosh?" he suggested.
"Oh, you swing it around your head, and wack yourself in the ear with it." suggested Sharon. Colon thought about this. "Short sword?" he asked hopefully.
"Oh, an over sized knife, so when you draw it, the other guy hits you with a table." said Kazza happily.
"Ok, you've passed basic training" Colon muttered. Carrot had wandered up and was watching the group.
"They've passed?" he asked.
"Yes, they can salute without knocking themselves out, and they know what use a pike is."
"Yeah, to lean against while on guard duty." Bruce muttered.
"Ok then, come with me." Carrot turned and marched off. The exaians looked at him, then slouched off after him.

The innkeeper looked up as the bell over the door rang. A small group of people had entered and were looking around the bar. He polished the bar with a cloth.
"Can I help you, ladies, gentlemen?" he enthused, rubbing his hands together.
The tallest of the group turned to him and smile, before pulling a crossbow from under his coat.
"Yes, we'll have all the cash please. Oh, and dont try shouting, the watchman is a little busy right now." He tossed a bag onto the counter.
The innkeeper's mouth opened and closed a few times in disbelief.
"You can't do this, I'm paid up with the Thieves Guild." he spluttered.
"Yes I can, this crossbow says I can. And we're not with the Thieves Guild, so you just hand over all the cash, and we wont kill you? No worries then?"
The innkeeper looked up at the man. He was totally non-descript, in that he looked perfectly normal. His survival sense overcame his greed and he took the bag from the counter and started to fill it. The other people were wandering around the shop, poking at this and that. He noticed that they were all wearing gloves and coats with the lapels turned up. His hand shook a little as he handed over the bag. A innkeepers hand will when he hands over 50 dollars.
"Thank you. That wasnt so hard, was it? Now, so you wont go running off to the watch as soon as we leave."
The man produced a coil of rope, a hammer and several nails. Another member of the group wandered up with the keys. A few minutes later the shopkeeper was hanging by his feet from the roof. The tall man looked up at him and said
"No Worries then, you'll be right. And just to make sure that nasty werewolf dosent track us down to quick," he reached into his coat pocket and produced a small vial. He walked to the door, the rest of the group filing out in front of him. Locking the door from the inside, he tossed the vial into the middle of the room, and closed the door behind him. The vial smashed as it hit the floor, and the wave of smell knocked the shopkeeper uncouncious.

Carrot took them to back to Commander Vimes office. "Wait here."
He said, before entering. The four looked at each other, then moved to the door, moving silently. "Did they pass?" they heard Vimes ask.
"Yes, they twisted poor Colon up. And we need a new un-lucky charlie."
"Why?"
"Err...they are perfect for the Cable Street Particulars."
"How so?"
Carrot coughed. "They splatted Charlie."
"How serious?"
"Well, now, we have some hessian, a bit of straw and a broken post."
"Ok, then, call them in. They're probably listening outside the door."
Carrot moved to the door and opened it. The Exians stared at him from the bench against the wall, seemingly not to have moved.
"Commander Vimes want's to see you."
They rose and passed him. Bruce patted him on the shoulder and said reassuringly
"Yes, we know."

The Exians lined up in front of Vimes's desk. Vimes looked from one face to the next. Each of them took the chance while Vimes was not looking at the them, to read the papers in front of him. "Ok, The Cable Street Particulars is a diffrent squad. Undercover Watchmen. We use them when normal coppers would give the game away. Things like graft, bribery, slavery & piracy."
At the last, all of the exians scowled. Vimes noticed this.
"You have a problem with pirates?" he asked. Shortie spoke up.
"None that cant be fixed with a sword."
The other exians nodded in agreement. Vimes shrugged. Every good watchmen (and there were a few, even in Ankh-Morpork) had a pet hate. It made them good watchmen.
"Anyway, you have satisfied carrot that you can do the job. We've had a spate of robberys from pubs in the last few weeks. They've been concentrated around the Short Street area, so what we'll do is have you do is wait in a pub untill they come in to rob you. We'll give you some money, but you are not to get drunk? Understand?"
They nodded. "Any questions?" Vimes leaned back. Shortie spoke up.
"Weapons?"
"What will you need?" Vimes lit up a cigar.
"What did the robbers use in the past?" Kazza asked.
"Crossbows and swords."
"Then, we'll need some handcuffs. Oh, and 100 dollars." Shortie conted them off on his fingers. "Why the 100 dollars?"
"For bola's, and to get some crossbows." Vimes nodded, and took a pouch out of his desk. "I want receipts."
"If we are meant to be undercover, why would we be needing receipts?" Sharon queried. Vimes nodded, and tossed the pouch to Sharon.
"Here's 100 dollars, it should be enough. Write down what you buy, and there are some ID's for you."
Sharon opened the bag and sorted out the contents. Shortie slid a few coins into an inside pocket, and the rest into his boots, while the others hid their coins in various places. Then they nodded, saluted and left.
"I wonder what I'm releasing on the city?" Vimes mused.

They wandered  out onto the city streets.
Shortie was reading the information that he had got from the Desk Seargent.
"Letsee, concentrates on pubs, early morning, late night, prefers the richer pubs, hasnt struck on the Ankh side of the river-"
"yet" interupted Bruce.
"Yes, yet.  There are hundreds of pubs in Ankh-Morpork, how will we find the right one?"
"Could just follow the shouts?" Kazza suggested.
"In Ankh-Morpork?" sharon asked.
"Come on, the Captain told me that Burleigh & Stronginthearm were the best weapons dealers.  And we need some coats!"

After doing some shopping, they looked for a place to eat.  Wandering into Gimlet's Hole Food, they ordered, and sat in a corner.  They looked around.  The room was crowded with humans, trolls and dwarfs.  A gnome kicked Bruce's anckle.
"Pass us the salt, mister?" it asked.  Bruce shrugged, and passed it down.  Grasping with ease te shaker bigger than itself, it shook some salt into it's meal and handed it back.
"Thanks Mister!" it shouted, before going back to it's meal.
"You know, it's pretty busy in here." Sharon commented.
A sudden premonition made them all put their hands on their new crossbows.  The door thumped open.
"Ok, no one move and no one gets hurt." the theif demanded.  He waved a short sword around the room.
"You a offical thief?  Where's your licence?" demanded Gimlet.
"I'm...a freelancer!  Just hand over the money.
The four looked at each other, then fired their crossbows.  The thief was pinned to the door.  Shortie wandered over.
"Now, when I let you go, you are going to run away, and I wont see you again, right?" He asked in a plesant tone.
"Screw you!  What are you, a bloody watchman or something?"
The thief struggeled against the bolts.  Shortie's hand moved so fast it was a blur.  The thief's head bounced off the door and he slumped.  Pulling the bolts from the door, shortie took the thief's purse and threw him into the street.  Picking up the short sword, he jammed it into a crack on the doorjam and gently bent it untill it resembled a circle.  Tossing that into the street as well, he wandered back to the table.  Gimlet met him there.
"Thanks for that, I'm paid up with the Thieves Guild, but some of those freelancers... Anyway, the meal is on the house!"  They stared at the dwarf.  That was unusual, a dwarf not requireing payment.  He noticed their stare.
"I'd have lost a lot more if it wasnt for your freind here.  Thanks again."  Gimlet shook Shortie's hand, then wandered back to the counter.  The group shrugged, and wanderd out again.
"I don't think the Pub Robbers will be that easy." Sharon mused.
"Yeah." they agreed.

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Footnotes.
# Men at Arms.