Tales from the Folly

by Ben Aaronovitch

The PC, who shall remain forever nameless, had been at CW with both me and Lesley and had been following our subsequent careers with the same appalled interest engendered by the early round contestants in Britain’s Got Talent, so he decided this was just the sort of weird shit that the Special Assessment Unit, aka the Folly, aka those weirdos, had been formed to deal with.

‘It’s not the book that’s important,’ I said. ‘It’s the reading.’

‘But this is the last straw,’ said Lady Ty. ‘Unless you believe it was a coincidence that Melvin the Rat turned up at a party we were hosting.’ Actually I thought it probably was, but I found that when people are nursing a grievance it’s a waste of time trying to explain the ubiquitous nature of coincidence in the universe. People always want things to happen for a reason.

that last sentence explains the foundation of many conspiracy theories.

‘He’ll have to go to school,’ said Corve. ‘I don’t see why,’ said Miss Tefeidiad, ‘I can’t be doing with all this education.’ ‘He’ll be able to make friends,’ said Lilly. ‘And blend in and move in a mysterious way.’ ‘You don’t need an education to move in a mysterious way,’ muttered Miss Tefeidiad. ‘What we need is a nice local couple,’ said Corve. Ah, I thought, here it comes. ‘I taught myself how to move in a mysterious way,’ Miss Tefeidiad continued muttering.