' 'Morning Mr Cumblethigh! 'Morning, Mr Strong-inthearm!'

Then he turned and waved at the leading troll. There was a muffled 'pop' as a firework went off.

' 'Morning, Mr Bauxite!'

He cupped his hands.

'If you could all just stop and listen to me—' he bellowed.

The two marches did stop, with some hesitation and a general piling up of the people in the back. It was that or walk over Carrot.

If Carrot did have a minor fault, it lay in not paying attention to small details around him when his mind was on other things. So the whispered conversation behind his back was currently escaping him.

'—hah! It was too an ambush! And your mother was an ore—'

'Now then, gentlemen,' said Carrot, in a reasoned and amiable voice, 'I'm sure there's no need for this belligerent manner—'

'—you ambush us too! my great-great-grandfather he at Koom Valley, he tell me!'

'—in our fair city on such a lovely day. I must ask you as good citizens of Ankh-Morpork—'

'—yeah? you even know who your father is, do you?'

'—that, while you must certainly celebrate your proud ethnic folkways, to profit by the example of my fellow officers here, who have sunk their ancient differences—'

'—I smash you head, you roguesome dwarfs!'

'—for the greater benefit of—'

'—I could take you with one hand tied behind my back!'

'—the city, whose badge they are—'

' —you get opportunity! I tie BOTH hands behind you back!'

'—proud and privileged to wear.'

'Aargh!'

'Ooow!'

It dawned on Carrot that hardly anyone was paying any attention to him. He turned.

Lance-Constable Cuddy was upside down, because Lance-Constable Detritus was trying to bounce him on the cobbles by his helmet, although Lance-Constable Cuddy was putting the position to good effect by gripping Lance-Constable Detritus around the knee and trying to sink his teeth into Lance-Constable Detritus' ankle.

The opposing marchers watched in fascination.

'We should do something!' said Angua, from the guards' hiding place in the alley.

'Weeell,' said Sergeant Colon, slowly, 'it's always very tricky, ethnic.'

'Can put a foot wrong very easily,' said Nobby. 'Very thin-skinned, your basic ethnic.'

'Thin-skinned? They're trying to kill one another!'

'It's cultural,' said Sergeant Colon, miserably. 'No sense us tryin' to force our culture on 'em, is there? That's speciesist.'

Out in the street, Corporal Carrot had gone very red in the face.