“I’d like you to think about this black ribbon I’m wearing. Know what it means, do you?”

The barman winced, and mumbled: “Tem’prance League . . .”

“Right! Well done!” said Maladict. “And one more thought for you, if you’ve got room. I’ve only taken a pledge not to drink human blood. It doesn’t mean I can’t kick you in the fork so hard you suddenly go deaf.”

Terry Pratchett, Monstrous Regiment

“Any good with [a sword]?” said the sergeant to Maladict.

“Not really, sir,” said Maladict. “Never had training. I carry it for protection, sir.”

“How can you protect yourself by carrying a sword if you don’t know how to use it?”

“Not me, sir. Other people. They see the sword and don’t attack me,” said Maladict patiently.

“Yes, but if they did, lad, you wouldn’t be any good with it,” said the sergeant.

“No, sir. I’d probably settle for just ripping their head off, sir. That’s what I mean by protection, sir. Theirs, not mine. And I’d get hell from the League if I did that, sir.”

Terry Pratchett, Monstrous Regiment

“Ankh-Morpork is a godless city—”

“I thought it had more than three hundred places of worship?” said Maladict.

Strappi stared at him in a rage that was incoherent until he managed to touch bottom again. “Ankh-Morpork is a godawful city,” he said.

Terry Pratchett, Monstrous Regiment