The World of Poo Read Online Free PDF Page B

carefully here. If you want to know what a gargoyle talks like, imagine having a conversation with a reasonably friendly rock, and if you want to know what they look like, think of those lizards that spend an awful lot of time apparently staring at nothing, and then suddenly there is a movement in the air and something has suddenly become lunch at an extremely fast speed.

A TRIP TO THE MENAGERIE AND CONVERSATION WITH A GARGOYLE
    GEOFFREY WAS USED to waking up to birdsong at home, and he’d got used to the early morning sounds of Ankh-Morpork, but what woke him this morning was quite different. A grinding of stone on stone and a crunching sound drew him to the window where, to his delight, he saw a very large gargoyle chewing the last of the toffee he’d left out.
    ‘Don’t go away,’ said Geoffrey. ‘I’m just going to get dressed.’
    The gargoyle shuffled along to make room as Geoffrey and Widdler climbed out on to the windowsill to join him.
    ‘I saw you put that toffee out from across the road. I’ve not had a bit of toffee for a long time, very nice too.’
    ‘What do you normally eat?’ asked Geoffrey.
    ‘Pigeons are good,’ munched the gargoyle and Geoffrey hardly liked to draw his attention to the pigeon sitting on his head wearing a very smug expression. But the gargoyle saw him looking and said, ‘Ah, that’s my decoy; it’s no good getting old if you don’t get artful. The silly buggers fly over thinking it’s a safe roost and Bob’s your uncle! A clever chap over in the Street of Cunning Artificers made it for me. In return I go down there every week or so and get rid of all of the pigeons on his skylight.’ 1
     
    ‘I’d better go down to breakfast; Grand-mama is taking me to the menagerie today. But I hope I’ll see you again,’ said Geoffrey, crawling back through the window. ‘If I can get back to the sweet shop I’ll bring you some more toffee.’
    ‘Thank you, but the old grinding teeth are not what they were,’ replied the gargoyle. ‘Cake is a favourite, though, especially fruit cake, but not with nuts, they give me the tweaks.’
    ‘There’s lots of cake here,’ said Geoffrey. ‘I’ll put some out for you tonight if I can.’

    After breakfast, Geoffrey and Grand-mama set out for the Palace.
    ‘I think you should find this very interesting,’ said Grand-mama. ‘I’m sorry we can’t take Widdler with us, but they don’t allow dogs where we’re going.’
    Geoffrey knew it would be somewhere important because Grand-mama was wearing a large hat that looked like the top of a big boat and Lily had pressed his trousers. After much muttering about the state of them, she’d also polished his shoes.
    They travelled by coach up Park Lane, across the Isle of Gods and over the Brass Bridge. Geoffrey saw several gargoyles perched up high on the buildings and he leaned out of the window to wave at them.
    ‘A gargoyle came to visit me this morning, Grand-mama,’ he said, pulling his head back in the coach. ‘He was very friendly and I’ve promised him some cake.’
    ‘Do be very careful, Geoffrey. No wandering around on the roof looking for gargoyle poo; I know that’s what you’re really after.’
    The coach pulled up and they entered the Palace grounds by a small side gate. There was a pleasant stroll along a narrow path until they came to a small and mysterious studded door. Without any hesitation Grand-mama gave the end of the bell-pull, which was in the shape of a snake, a tug. Geoffrey moved quickly behind her, just in case. The door creaked open to reveal a short man with a very long beard and a flat-peaked cap. He wore tall rubber boots a bit like the ones that Geoffrey had for rainy days, but these were altogether more substantial, the sort of boot that laughed in the face of (or, come to that, the rear of) any animal’s nervous activity.
     
    The beard, which seemed to have a life of its own, enquired politely as to who they were and what their business was.