Slant
| Mr. Slant | |
 | |
| Name | |
| Race | Zombie |
| Age | 351 (in Making Money) |
| Occupation | Head of the Guild of Lawyers |
| Physical appearance | Grey skin, old, and zombie-like in every way. |
| Residence | Ankh-Morpork |
| Death | Many years ago |
| Parents | |
| Relatives | |
| Children | |
| Marital Status | |
| Appearances | |
| Books | Feet of Clay Jingo The Truth Going Postal Making Money |
| Cameos | Night Watch The Last Hero Snuff |
Mr Slant of Morecombe, Slant & Honeyplace is the head of the Guild of Lawyers in Ankh-Morpork. He is always involved in shadowy business but never caught out committing a crime. He died ages ago, but that has never stopped him from continuing his work.
In Feet of Clay, as the Patrician lies poisoned, Mr Slant addresses the leaders of the Guilds and introduces the plot to make Nobby Nobbs King of Ankh-Morpork. We are told that Mr Slant became a zombie as he wished to pursue the financial disbursements involved in conducting his own defence at the trial that apparently lead to his execution by beheading, and that his head has been sewn back onto his body.
When called upon by the Patrician during the events of Jingo to render an opinion on the ownership of Leshp, Mr Slant claims the island belongs to Ankh-Morpork based on Eminent Domain, Extra-Territoriality and, most importantly, Acquiris Quodcumque Rapis, which Commander Vimes works out to mean, "you get what you grab."
In The Truth we discover that - zombies being rather dry - one of the few things he fears is fire.
Among the people who fear Mr Slant are the rest of the lawyers of Ankh-Morpork, as seen in Making Money. Not only has he read those big intimidating books that they keep behind them on shelves to scare their clients, he in fact wrote many of them. Plus he has been around so long (in Making Money, he is 351 years old) that he almost counts as legal precedent on his own.
"Mr. Slant did not, despite what had been said, have the respect of Ankh-Morpork's legal profession. He commanded its fear. Death had not diminished his encyclopedic memory, his guile, his talent for corkscrew reasoning, and the vitriol of his stare. Do not cross me this day, it advised the lawyers. Do not cross me, for if you do I will have the flesh from your very bones and the marrow therein. You know those leather-bound tomes you have on the wall behind your desk to impress your clients? I have read them all, and I wrote half of them. Do not try me. I am not in a good mood."