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           Thereasonthatclichesbecomeclichesisthattheyarethehammersandscrewdriversinthetoolboxofcommunication.

           Themobfilledthebrokendoorway.Someofitwaswavingvarioussharpimplementswiththeup-and-downmotionpropertorioters.

           "Worl,"saidtheleader,"it’sthedragon,innit?"

           Therewasachorusofmutteredagreement.

           "Hwhataboutit?"saidLadyRamkin.

           "Worl.It’sbeenburningthecity.Theydon’tflyfar.Yougotdragonshere.Couldbeoneofthem,couldn’tit?"

           "Yeah."

           "S’right."

           "QED."

           "Sowhatwe’regoingtodois,we’regoingtoput’emdown."

           "S’right."

           "Yeah."

           "Probonopublico."

           LadyRamkin’sbosomroseandfelllikeanempire.Shereachedoutandgrabbedthedungingforkfromitshookonthewall.

           "Onestepnearer,Iwarnyou,andyou’llbesorry,"shesaid.

           Theleaderlookedbeyondhertothefranticdragons.

           "Yeah?"hesaid,nastily."Andwhat’llyoudo,eh?"

           Hermouthopenedandshutonceortwice."IshallsummontheWatch!"shesaidatlast.

           Thethreatdidnothavetheeffectshehadexpected.LadyRamkinhadneverpaidmuchattentiontothosebitsofthecitythatdidn’thavescaleson.

           "Well,that’stoobad,"saidtheleader."That’sreallyworrying,youknowthat?Makesmegoallweakattheknees,thatdoes."

           Heextractedalengthycleaverfromhisbelt.