19
" I walked over to the guy behind the bar, the one I'd followed from Low Town. Up close he was bigger than I realized, solid shoulders and a crew cut and a gut pushing past his waistband. He stared down at me from across the counter, trying not to show fear.
"You're pretty short," I said.
He laughed awkwardly.
"I said, you're pretty fucking short."
This time he didn't laugh. "I heard you."
"Shorter than me."
"I guess."
"Say it."
"Say what?"
"Tell me you're shorter than me."
"Are you fucking serious?"
"Yes."
He shot a look over at Sully. I put my hand up to block the view, snapped my fingers. "Your boss can't make you no taller."
"I'm shorter than you," he said, and he said it without a stutter. "
― Daniel Polansky , She Who Waits (Low Town, #3)
20
" the rat king, they call it, unimaginatively. My long association with the city’s rodent population has yet to confirm its existence, but it’s a potent image, one brought to mind with the sudden arrival of the Carroll children. Their entry was preceded by roughly twenty seconds of screaming, a duet that grew louder as they approached. There were two of them, a boy and a girl to judge by the harmony. Physically, they took after their mother, which is to say they’d never win any beauty contests. I got the sense they took after her in spirit as well, which is to say they’d never win anything. "
― Daniel Polansky , She Who Waits (Low Town, #3)