Juan Gris Portrait of Josette Gris

'May we take some weapons?' he said.
'What?'
'Some weapons? For official purposes?'
The armourer looked unable to cope with this.
'You mean I got a choice?' he said.
'Why, certainly. We practise policing by consent in Ankh-Morpork. If you feel unable to agree to our request, you only have to say the word.'
There was a faint bong as the tip of the iron arrow once again bounced on the back of the armourer's skull. He sought in vain for 'And do you happen to know what it is they say about dwarfs?' said Cuddy.
It crept over Angua once again that Carrot had no irony in his soul. He meant every word. If the man had really held out, Carrot would probably have given in. Of course, there was a bit of a gapsomething to say, because the only word he could think of right now was 'Fire!''Uh,' he said. 'Uh. Yeah. Right. Sure. Take what you want.''Fine, fine. And Sergeant Colon will give you a receipt, adding of course that you release the weapons of your own free will.''My own free will?''You have absolute choice in the matter, of course.'The man's face screwed up in the effort of desperate cogitation.'I reckon . . .''Yes?''I reckon it's OK for you to take 'em. Take 'em right away.''Good man. Do you have a trolley?'