Fangy dislodged a severed finger from between his teeth. It fell to the floor and the dinosaur nudged it toward Nicholas.
Nicholas looked at the grisly appendage and at his sometimes-loyal pal. He shook his head. “I don’t eat people.”
Now he thought ahead to show-and-tell day on Thursday. Could Fangy be trusted not to violently murder any more classmates?
“You’d better be on your best behavior or no treats for a week!” Nicholas warned his friend.
Fangy put his tail between his legs and skulked off to hide behind the couch.
Miss Cope watched the lizard enter her classroom with some apprehension. It stalked forward, massive claws clicking on the hard floor. Although Nicholas had assured her there would be no problems, she didn’t like the shifty look in the predator’s eyes. The thing seemed awfully jumpy.
“No killing,” whispered Nicholas. Then he clarified. “No hurting, either.”
Fangy was led to the front. Nicholas had him run through his repertoire of tricks and Fangy enthralled the class.
Fangy enjoyed the attention. He was determined to do his best. But he was still a reptile with a brain the size of a peanut and some things can’t be helped.
A girl in the back row moved suddenly. Fangy’s instincts kicked in and he launched himself towards her, bowling desks and other students out of the way.
This time Nicholas was ready.
“No!” he shouted.
Fangy heard the command and froze, jaws gaping wide and arms outstretched. He turned his head very slowly, without moving the rest of his body, to face his owner.
“You come here,” said Nicholas, pointing emphatically at his side.
Fangy obeyed, slinking back with his head low.
“Sorry,” Nicholas told the class.
“Nicholas,” said Miss Cope. “Go to the principal’s office.”
He nodded and patted the velociraptor on the nose. “Come on, buddy.”
“It’s not all your fault,” the boy told him.
Miss Cope waited until the troublesome pair had left the room and then addressed the rest of the children.
“If anybody else brings a pet for show-and-tell, make sure it’s on a leash.”