самая быстрая попытка завербовать в варды на диком западе

I looked at Director Piggot. She was a pig. Like, not a literal pig, but she looked like a pig. She had blond hair, on top of a pig’s head. She didn’t look very happy, but maybe because I was still looking at her as if she were human instead of a pig. I looked her up and down. Someone’s arm emerged from the bottom of her waistcoat and under the table.

“You must be Fortuna,” said a voice from under the table, and the pig muppet moved its mouth accordingly.

“Yeah.”

“Wards,” Piggot said immediately.

“No,” I countered.

The muppet somehow managed to glare at me, before it dived down underneath the table. All sorts of cartoony objects, like framed photographs of a frog muppet, and old rotten fruit, flew out from the desk before Piggot emerged from under the desk again. In one hand she was holding a freaking hand grenade, and the other hand on the pin.

“Wards, or I blow us both up,” she said, glaring.

I glared back. “Fuck you. Fuck your authority, the PRT are a bunch of spineless cowards.”

“You said it, not me,” Piggot said, and pulled the pin.

It exploded.