The diminutive dinosaur locked eyes with Wilson and cried: 'Mummy!'
Wilson visibly blanched!
'My name is Pterry, and you are my Mummy!' the creature announced.
Wilson snorted derisorily: 'Pterry the Pterodactyl? That's a bit of a cliché, isn't it?'
Antony the Anteater coughed and gave Wilson a very hard stare.
W shrugged. 'Hmm. Pterry it is, then!'
Wilson then patiently explained to Pterry that he is not his 'Mummy' but in fact the proprietor of the Museum inside which he has been born.
Pterry absorbed this information, nodding gravely at each statement.
W then told Pterry could stay, so long as he agrees to put on 'a bit of a show' for museum visitors.
'You know the sort of thing: flap your wings about, growl a bit, look adorable… but threatening – do you understand?'
Pterry nodded, 'Okay, Mummy!'
Nërp has finally decided that the Strange Stone in the Museum is 'probably' not on his database, and taken the decision to inform Wilson of its sudden and mysterious appearance.
On receiving the news, Wilson immediately assumed that the museum had suffered an asteroid strike – he grabbed Antony and Tiny Toy and rushed out to take them to his underground Asteroid Shelter.
Actually, he was deeply conflicted as to whether he should check his Museum's Roof for Asteroid Damage before taking refuge in the Shelter.
Reasoning that if the Asteroid Strike has already occurred – and he is still alive – the immediate danger may have passed, he bravely decided to risk a quick reconnoitre of the museum.
Opening the door and nervously peering inside, he realised that the 'stone' appeared to have cracked open… and hatched – for surrounded by remnants of egg shell sat a strange dinosaur-like creature wearing a surprised expression!
______________
IN OTHER NEWS: The Blog has now recorded more than 66,000 hits! Yay!
As some of you know, it was recently my birthday.
One of Wilson's friends in Australia, John Kaniecki, kindly wrote a brilliant poem for me!
Here it is:
ANTEATERS
by John Kaniecki
I am the great promoter
Peddling some sinister sacred sin
I am the great promoter
PT Barnum’s twin
Like a rocket above the skies
My ticket sale soars
I need not tell any lies
I am advertising ‘Ant Wars’
Picture if you will
A green grassy field
Ants march through blades of grass
Secretly they pass
Oh what a wondrous thrill
These stubborn insects refuse to yield
But alas in comes the anteater
We call him Paul but his name is Peter
He is well trained in the art of eating
With a wicked wild nose there is no chance of defeating
Our miraculous hero
The score starts at zero to zero
But soon Paul gives it his all
See the ants by the score fall
Sucked up in the long snout
There is no doubt
The honors go to the winner
In this case a tasty dinner
And so the sun sets on another Australian day
Paul has more than earned his pay
No pesky ants will be coming our way
Hail to our friend
May his life have no end
For as long as he walks by our side
No matter how much the ants increase
We may have our cookouts in perfect peace
That truth cannot be denied
Anteaters wherever they trod
Are a gift straight from God!
Is that Brilliant or what?! Thank you, John!
You can see some of his other work here:
https://www.amazon.com/John-Kaniecki/e/B00NV8AU76%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share
Nërp, in the course of carrying out his duties as Museum Security Guard, has come across what appears to be a strange stone in the museum.
His attention was drawn to the stone because, unlike all the other exhibits, it doesn't have a label.
Not wanting to worry Wilson at this stage, he has decided to consult his database to confirm whether this is indeed a new addition to the Museum's Stock.
Nërp is running an early Beta copy of dBase IV, so this could take some time…
Since the Wilson Vermilingua New Museum of Old Stuff and a Robot is currently closed, Wilson has appointed Nërp to the post of Museum Security Guard and Cleaner.
Nërp was very pleased by the first position, rather less so by the second – he says he might do a little light dusting and count the exhibits, but draws the line at washing the floor or cleaning the windows…
Other than a peaked cap from a Fancy Dress shop and a plastic Sheriff badge out of a cracker, there is no Security Guard Uniform as such, so Nërp's come up with a Warning Sign of his own.
And given what little he has in the way of equipment, he's really working that hat – at once both sinister and jaunty!
By way of weaponry, Wilson has armed Nërp with a broom… secretly hoping he will grow bored of doing nothing and use it to sweep the floors.
