Devious's face curled like a lizard eating a slice of mango. “That's a lot of plasticine.”
“Is it?” Harold tried to remember what Dill had looked like as a person. He had trouble remembering people, one of the reasons he'd never become an artist. Dill had been... what? About twenty, thin, curly hair like Alan Davies when he was young and watchable. Average height, thinnish, about seventy kilos. “Then reduce it to seventy kilos. That's about a hundred and fifty-five pounds, give or take. Almost a quarter less.”
“Yes, Master. Any particular colour?”
“Um... All sorts. Flesh coloured, Red. White.” He tried to remember the colour of Dill's eyes. “Blue, green, brown.” He shrugged. “Whatever you can get.”
“Right.” Devious made a note with a stubby pencil. “Anything else? Clothes? Something to coat the plasticine afterwards so it doesn't get all hairy? Something to make it smell less repulsive?”
“I suppose so. All of those things. And a wig. Something to match the hair Dill had in life. You saw him when he was alive, yes?”
Devious curled his snout. “Not really. He was already a zombie when he first came here.”
“But relatively fresh, yes? His hair wouldn't have been much different.”
“Probably. I'll nip back three weeks and have a look, shall I?”
“Yes. Perfect. Get a sample of his DNA while you're there, will you? Sam's, too. You never know. We might be able to do something about flesh bodies for them.”
“Yes, Master. I'll just collect the kids and we'll be off.” He opened a portal and vanished.
“No, Wait.” Harold was too late to stop him. “Bugger. I needed an imp to help you put this computer together.”
He led Golem-Dill to the study, there it pointed toward the box of components.