Slowly, incredibly, Arthur put up what now appeared to be his tiny little fists. ‘Want to make something of it?’ he said. ‘I beg your minuscule pardon?’ roared Thor. ‘I said,’ repeated Arthur, and he could not keep the quavering out of his voice, ‘do you want to make something of it?’ He waggled his fists ridiculously. Thor looked at him with incredulity. Then a little wisp of smoke curled upwards from his nostril. There was a tiny little flame in it too. He gripped his belt. He expanded his chest to make it totally clear that here was the sort of man you only dared to cross if you had a team
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