[a smart move on Six's part; if only other people were so eager to convince. No matter how many times Rincewind warned them the damn thing wasn't a pet, people here still tended to insist on treating it like one. But the Luggage doesn't seem interested in threatening at the moment, its circling motions more inclined towards curiosity than posturing.]

I'm not usually a child. [some protest in his voice, and more than a touch of exasperation.] I don't know what that was, but I haven't been nine for...

[well, running through various dimensions does weird things to one's age and sense of time. Rincewind hesitates.]

...for a while. This - [he gestures to himself] - is how I'm actually supposed to be. It's fine if you're disappointed; I generally am.

[which manages to come off more as a statement of fact than any genuine self-deprecation. But speaking of looks and such:] D'you mind if I ask what, ah... what you are, exactly? And your name, I did mention I've forgotten it.