The Dechantagne dining room table looked extremely empty this morning. Mrs. Godwin was in her usual spot, as was Mrs. Colbshallow. Professor Calliere was there and his solicitor Mr. Streck was still visiting. Yuah sat to the right of her husband. But there were four empty chairs. Saba Colbshallow had not stopped by for breakfast with his mother for several days and the empty spot so often filled with an ad-hoc dining guest was unoccupied. Little Iolana was sleeping in and so was not in her highchair. But it was Iolanthe’s absence which made the table seem much emptier than it would if anyone else happened to be gone. It was quite a boring meal, aside from Mr. Streck spilling his tea in his lap. Yuah was picking at her eggs, sausages, and white pudding not because of her sister-in-law’s absence, but because of the unpleasant cramping she felt in her abdomen.

After the family had finished breakfast and everyone got up from the table, Yuah took Terrence’s arm.

“Where did you want to go?” she asked.

“Blind man or no, I can find my way around my own house.”

“I’m sure you can. I was just trying to be helpful.” She let go of his arm. “I suppose you are going to the parlor to just sit.”

“I don’t know. What are you going to do?”

“I thought I would go upstairs and lie down for a bit.”

“Do you want company?” he asked, smiling suggestively.

“No I don’t, you horrible, insatiable man.”

“You didn’t want me just sitting around in the parlor.”

“I’m going upstairs to lie down because I have a headache,” said Yuah.

“I don’t think I’m any more insatiable than any other man.”

“If that is true,” she said, leaving him at the bottom of the stairs, “then your whole race is horrible.”

At the top of the stairs, Yuah turned left. It was a short walk past the balcony on the left side and Mrs. Colbshallow’s room and the nursery on the right. Her own room was at the end of the hallway. She thought of it as her own room despite the fact that Terrence shared it with her. Neither was inclined to follow the custom among the upper class of having separate bedrooms for husband and wife. She was already looking at wallpaper and other furnishings, though she had to do so from catalogs brought all the way from Brechalon. She knew she wanted pink with lots of lace and she knew that her brass bed would have curtains around it that matched the curtains on the window. At this moment though the bed was a simple wooden frame holding up a single very simple mattress and the only curtains on the windows were a pair of old sheets that she had cut and hemmed.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and tossed herself back upon it, her arms stretched out above her head. The ceiling above her was smooth white plaster, just like the bare walls. She felt another tug in her abdomen. It was the thirteenth of Festuary. She had been married for twenty-three days. She and Terrence had already been together as man and wife at least fifteen times. Yuah was sure that was more than most people did it in their entire lifetime. Why wasn’t she pregnant already? Who could she ask about it? She could ask Mrs. C or Mrs. G, but then she would have to look at them every day after having asked them. Mrs. Bratihn might be a good person to talk to about it. She’d been married twice and had several children. Or maybe Mrs. Leubking.

The baby started to cry in the next room, and Yuah pulled herself up and walked in to check on her. She turned the corner in the nursery and jumped as she saw the reptilian creature leaning over the crib. But the tiny yellow fringe of a skirt told her that it was one of the nanny lizzies.

“You there. What are you doing? Which one are you?”

The lizzies didn’t seem to startle the way the humans so often did, but even so the creature turned around quickly. As soon as it did, she could tell by the coloring that it was the one called Kheesie. The creature rolled its eyes around in a way that Yuah was beginning to recognize as fear, or at least nervousness. Stepping quickly past Kheesie, Yuah looked down into the crib. Iolana was red-faced with anger at having her diaper changed, but was otherwise unhurt.

“I’ll take it from here,” she said.

Cleaning the baby’s bottom with the washrag, she tossed it and the old diaper into the ceramic chamber pot under the crib, which she then handed to the lizzie. She powdered Iolana and then pinned on a new diaper. Picking up the still crying child, she pressed her to her shoulder and turned around to find the lizardman still there.

“Are you going to stand there looking stupid all day, or are you going to take that out and empty it?”

Kheesie stared blankly.

“Take it out!” and as the creature hurried out of the room, she called after her, “And clean it properly.”

She patted Iolana on the back and bounced her up and down.

“It’s so hard to find good help.” Then she burst out laughing at herself. How quickly she was turning into Iolanthe. My, what a horrible thought.

She pulled the baby away from her shoulder and looked into her face. Iolana was giving her a puzzled look in return.

“Don’t look at me like that. You know Auntie Yuah. I’m your favorite.”

Iolana blew a spit bubble.

“Look at you, you are so advanced. Already walking and now you’re going to talk to Auntie Yuah, aren’t you?”

The child made a valiant effort at speaking by saying “boo-uh.”

As soon he opened the door of the shop, Saba was blasted by music playing inside. It was loud enough that Mr. Parnorsham didn’t hear the bell ring, and as he was stacking up cans of butter biscuits behind the counter, he didn’t realize that he had a customer until he turned around. By that time Saba had made his way all the way to the back of the store. Mr. Parnorsham jumped a bit when he saw the young militiaman.

“Oh, hello Saba,” he said over the sound of the music.

Suddenly a high-pitched female singer chimed in along with the music.

The afternoon was lazy,

Everything was still,

The skies were blue and hazy,

When you gave me a thrill.

You said you were looking for Sadie,

Without her you would be blue,

You said you would never forget her,

I said I’ll be Sadie for you.

“That’s a bit scandalous,” said Saba.

“Yes it is,” said Mr. Parnorsham with a sly smile. “I’ll turn it off if a lady comes in.”

“Can you turn it down a tad?”

“Right-oh.” And once the volume had been adjusted. “What can I do for you, young corporal?”

“Do you have a cold Billingbow’s?”

“Of course.” The proprietor retrieved a frosty bottle of the soda water from the icebox behind the counter. “Twenty-two p with the bottle deposit.”

“You don’t send all those bottles back to Brechalon, do you?”

“Oh, goodness no. Billingbow’s sends its soda water in airtight casks. I have to fill the bottles. I’m going to have to order a new shipment of bottles though. People keep forgetting to return them. You would think that two pfennigs would be encouragement enough.”

“Remind some of the local kids that they can bring the bottles in a get two p each. That could add up quick.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” said Mr. Parnorsham, taking out a cloth towel and absentmindedly wiping his counter.

Outside, Saba leaned against the side of the building and swigged his soda. There wasn’t much going on that he could see. Most people had gone home for their tea. He strolled over to Mr. Darwin’s shop and looked in the window. There was quite an array of dinosaur skin belts and bags and an umbrella stand filled with very large colorful feathers. Saba recognized some of them as utahraptor feathers—bright turquoise colored fading to a lovely green. Turning around, he saw one other person outside in the square. Aalwijn Finkler was staring at several tables and chairs set up by his mother’s bakery.

Saba strode across the gravel square and walked up to the boy.

“Can’t figure out how to arrange them?”

“Sorry? No. This is fine. Um, I’m just lost in thought.”

“Thinking about anything in particular?”

“I was just wondering if I should let my mother pick out my clothes.”

“Really?”

“Well, um yeah. That and girls.”

“Oh, well, that is quite a topic…”

At that moment the most horrific sound that Saba had ever heard rent the air. He knew that it was the tyrannosaurus, but it wasn’t its normal cry. It was a scream that was filled with more rage and hate than a human being could possibly understand. It was like something escaping the pits of hell. He felt a shiver running down his spine.

“Kafira’s Cross, that’s right behind this building. Get inside.”

“We’ve got to go down there!” said Aalwijn, pointing down the road to the west. Saba thought that he must be scared witless. He would walk right into the giant dinosaur.

“Not bloody likely. Not without a squad of men, and a really big gun.”

“Senta just went down that road!” yelled Aalwijn.

“You stay here!” called Saba, and throwing down his half empty bottle, he took off at a full run.

Note: this is the first appearance of Mike’s friend Dr. Mercer, but he makes another appearance in His Robot Wife: A Great Deal of Patience.  Coming Soon.

“This is a ridiculous waste of time,” said Mike, crossing his arms over his chest.

“This is a ridiculous waste of time,” said Mike, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Mike,” replied Patience. “You know you have to get checked out by the doctor. You might have really injured yourself.”

“I know that. That’s not the problem. The problem is that I sat in the waiting room for three hours before I could talk to the nurse, I waited for an hour to see the PA, then I had to go get an x-ray, and now it’s been another hour while I wait for the doctor. He’s going to come in here any minute and tell me that the x-ray didn’t show anything, because you can only see bones with it, and I’m pretty sure my bones aren’t broken—it’s probably a tendon or something—and then he’s going to order some highly expensive scan of some kind, and he’s going to tell me he only had me get an x-ray because that’s the only way that the insurance company will pay for the other scan.”

“You’re getting yourself all worked up,” said Patience. “Calm down.”

At that moment the door opened and Dr. Doug Mercer, head bent over a pad of medical records, stepped into the room.

“So Mike, how are you today?”

“I’ve got a fucked up knee. How are you, asshole?”

“Do you talk to all your doctors that way?” he asked, without looking up from his texTee, “or just the ones you went to high school with?”

“No, my cardiologist is an asshole too. I like my dentist though.”

“You know, I was going to be a dentist,” said Dr. Mercer, finally looking up. “But you meet a higher class of patient as a GP. So, how did you injure your leg?”

“I don’t know. I just woke up this morning and it wouldn’t support my weight.”

“He injured it carrying a heavy piece of furniture,” said Patience. “Then he went jogging.”

“Oh, you got a robot,” said the doctor, giving Patience a long look. “Good for you. People with robots live longer.”

“This is my wife, Patience.”

“Oh, you’re one of those guys.”

“What guys?” demanded Mike.

“You know… perverts.”

“Did I mention you were an asshole?”

“I think you said something along that line. Now where was I? Oh, yes. Here’s your x-ray.” He held up the texTee. “It doesn’t really show anything, except that you’ve got good bones for someone your age. I wouldn’t mind having those bones. We need to set you up to get an LMS scan. That will tell us what’s really going on. We just had to get an x-ray first to satisfy the insurance company.”

Mike shot a meaningful glance at his wife.

At that moment, Patience received an excited message from Wanda. “Patience, you just have to see what I found on the vueTee.”

“Send it to my in-box,” Patience messaged back. “I’ll look at it later. Mike is injured and he needs my complete attention right now.”

“You know, I’m having a little get together this coming Monday,” said Mercer. “You should come over. We’re going to have steaks and shrimp on the barbeque grill. Come about seven. Bring some beer.”

“In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never invited me to your house,” said Mike.

“Well, in the old days, you were too busy taking care of your kids. You seemed to feel they couldn’t get along without you for an evening. Kind of conceited, if you ask me. In recent years, it’s because my wife hates you.”

“Why does she hate me?”

“She thinks you’re a pompous blowhard.”

“Margie never said anything of the sort,” said Mike. “We were friends in high school. In fact, she liked me more than she liked you.”

“Oh, I’m not married to Margie anymore,” said Mercer. “I traded her in on a new model—sweet little blonde, twenty-nine years old.”

“Then how would she even know me?” wondered Mike.

“You were her middle school teacher.”

“Shit. All right, I’ll come, but I’m bringing the cheapest beer I can find. Now, can we get my leg scanned?”

“My receptionist will schedule the appointment for you and set you up with a referral to an orthopedist—save you a step. It’ll probably take a week or so to get your scan, but then you should be able to get right in to see my colleague.”

“A week or two?” growled Mike. “It’s a good thing I’m not dying.”

“Well, these LMS units are very good and so everyone wants to use one.”

“You should get one for your office then.”

“I would, but they’re a bazillion dollars.”

“You’re making money hand over fist,” said Mike.

“I’m not exaggerating. That’s actually the price tag—one bazillion dollars.”

“I see all these people you have working in here—real people too, not robots. I never even see you. I usually see that Dr. Howe that you have working for you.”

“Yes, but I had to fire him for sleeping with my wife. I’m not upset about it though. It gave me a chance to marry my girlfriend.”   Mercer picked up his texTee and gave Mike one more glance. “I’m sending in a prescription for some anti-inflammatories. Anything else you need—pain pills, hard narcotics, Viagra? I’ve got it all. I can hook you up.”

“No.”

“Good, then get the hell out of my office.”

“You think I’m an idiot?” demanded Senta.

“I didn’t say anything of the kind,” replied Zurfina calmly.

“I know a fylfot when I see one!”

“Don’t be so defensive, Pet. I didn’t say I didn’t believe you. I merely pointed out that I have been all over this town in the past few weeks and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of this wizard of yours.”

“Well I saw him. I’ve been keeping tabs on him since he got here and I even talked to him.”

“I don’t doubt you,” said Zurfina, in a remarkably soothing voice, “but the level of residual magic around town is no more than I would expect from you and your everyday antics.”

“Are you sure you didn’t miss some?”

“Now who’s being insulting?” The sorceress’s voice suddenly flared louder. “If I didn’t detect it, it wasn’t there.”

“Hmph!” said Senta, and crossing her arms, turned to face the door.

Zurfina sighed. “Children are so difficult. Is it any wonder that I never wanted one of my own?”

“Maybe you should just get rid of me like everybody else does,” said Senta quietly.

Zurfina crossed from the kitchen to the other side of the stairs and put an arm around Senta’s shoulders.

“You’re far too interesting for me to get rid of now. Look, this wizard of yours is obviously far too insignificant for me to concern myself with. You’ll have to take care of him.”

“Me? I’m just a little kid.”

“You know something?” said Zurfina, taking her arm from around Senta and grasping her by the shoulders. “Nobody believes that—least of all me. There’s not a journeyman wizard this side of Xygia who can do what you can do with magic.”

“Really?”

“Would I lie to you?”

“Of course you would.”

“Well…” Zurfina shrugged. “Keep an eye on your wizard, and if he turns out to be a threat to us, neutralize him.”

“What if you’re wrong and he magics the crap out of me?” wondered Senta.

“Then I’ll know better with my next apprentice,” replied Zurfina. “Do you want a sandwich?”

“Yes.”

Zurfina waved her finger in the air and, as the contents of the froredor began to fly out to the table and assemble themselves into sandwiches, she started up the stairs.

“Bring my meal up to the top floor. Leave it on the step outside the door. Don’t come in.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” said Senta, watching mayonnaise being spread across a freshly cut piece of bread.

Cissy was getting quite used to her new role. The work she did, while not physically demanding, was at least varied enough to keep her attention. She enjoyed watching the humans and learning about their strange activities. She enjoyed earning many copper bits and spending some of them to buy things. She liked the human houses, especially now with four feet of snow on the ground outside and more coming down all the time. Unused rooms in the big house could become as drafty as the huts in lizzie villages, but there were so many fireplaces constantly burning that it was easy to find a place to warm up. And her own place, in the room she now shared with four other females, in the back of the motorshed, was kept toasty warm in the evening.

“Pay attention Cissy,” said Mrs. Dechantagne.

Cissy was lacing up the back of the strange undergarment that squeezed the human woman’s waist. Cissy now knew Mrs. Dechantagne’s name, and indeed the names of the other members of the household, though the intricacies of their familial connections still baffled her. Nor could she pronounce most of the names, but fortunately speech on her part was seldom needed. She liked Mrs. Dechantagne almost as much as she liked Mrs. Colbshallow. Neither woman hit the lizzies and Mrs. Dechantagne didn’t yell at them overmuch. While Mrs. Colbshallow did on occasion raise her voice, she alone among the humans had learned the lizzie language, and offered affection toward the lizzies.

Cissy found herself starting to think in Brech, rather than her native language. She had learned so many words for things that there were no words for among the lizzies. She had stopped thinking of her race as “the people” and now just thought of them as lizzies, and more often than not, when she thought of herself, the name Cissy came to mind rather than Ssissiatok.

She pulled the corset strings tightly through they eyelets and pulled down on them, locking them into position, so that she could then tie them into a knot. Once that was done, Mrs. Dechantagne turned around to examine her work in the cheval glass.

“Yes, that’s fine. Now help me into the dress.”

Cissy was fascinated by the ornate dresses that the human females wore, and this dress was no exception. It was the color of an angry sunset and was made of enough material to have clothed a dozen men and women. Covered with coral roses and pink bows, it had to be carefully held so that Mrs. Dechantagne could step into it. Then it was fastened up the back with more than forty tiny buttons, which Cissy could barely manipulate even with a buttonhook in her clawed fingers. There was no way that the woman could have put it on by herself and there was no way that she would be able to get out of it either. Of course Cissy had her own skirt, but it was just a wide piece of material wrapped around her above the tail, a mere homage to the dresses worn by the human women of the house.

Once Mrs. Dechantagne was in her dress, Cissy had to kneel down to put the woman’s shoes on her feet, using the same buttonhook to slip the twenty-four buttons on each shoe into their correct spot. Before she could stand up she heard a shrieking sound from the doorway to the right. She turned to see elderly Mrs. Godwin leaning against the doorframe with her hand on her breast.

“Are you alright Mrs. Godwin?” asked Mrs. Dechantagne.

“I thought for a moment you were being attacked… by an alligator.”

“Did you forget your glasses again, Mrs. G?”

“Of course I didn’t.   I have them… oh…” Mrs. Godwin felt her face, and not finding any glasses there, turned and wandered off down the hallway.

“You do rather look like an alligator,” said the young woman, looking down at Cissy.

“Alligator?”

“Yes. Well, I’ve never seen one in real life. Just in books. Um, they say you have crocodiles that are very similar. Do you know crocodiles?”

Cissy shook her head.

“Oh well. Get up off the floor. I’m done with you for now. Go down and see what Mrs. Colbshallow has for you.”

Mike washed his hair, rinsed his head and his body, and then turned off the water. Patience handed him a towel as he opened the door. While he dried himself, she set his clothes out on the bed and then hopped downstairs to the kitchen to serve his blueberry waffle. She poured herself a glass of water and poured a glass of milk for Mike, set his breakfast at his place, and then sat down to wait for him. Seventy six point three seconds later, Mike entered and sat down.

“You are not wearing the right shirt,” said Patience. “I laid out your beige shirt. It matches your slacks.”

“This is fine,” he replied, cutting a piece of waffle with his fork.

“But that is your blue shirt. It doesn’t match your slacks.”

He leaned over sideways and looked at what she was wearing. Her sleeveless yellow blouse and miniskirt combination matched her yellow semi-wedge sandals with four and half inch heels. They made her slender legs seem to go on forever.

“What are we getting dressed up for?”

“You’re taking me to the art exposition at the community center.”

“All right.” He took a bite, still looking at her. “You did your hair different.”

“Yes, I pinned it back behind my left ear. I thought about pinning it back behind my right ear, but in the end I changed my mind. Do you like it?”

“You look gorgeous, as always. Are you sure you want to be seen with an old man like me?”

Patience stood up and walked around behind him. She watched as he cut another piece of waffle and brought it to his mouth, before cupping her hands under his chin, tilting his head back, and kissing him on the lips.

“You are not old.”

“I’m fifty-five.”

“You’re fifty-six, but you are very handsome.” She kissed him again. “Hurry and eat your breakfast. I told Wanda that we would meet them at ten.”

“Who’s Wanda… shit!”

“What’s the matter, Mike?”

“I dribbled syrup on my shirt.”

“Now you can change into one that matches.”

Thirty minutes later, Mike maneuvered his Chevy through the narrow downtown streets of Springdale, California. He turned left and slowed as they passed over the speed bump at the entrance to the community center’s parking lot. He turned and smiled at Patience, to find her glaring at him.

“What?”

“You know what.”

Mike was wearing a beige shirt, but it wasn’t the one that his wife had selected for him.

“I like this shirt better. It’s more comfortable, and it matches. Doesn’t it?” He steered into a parking space near the entrance.

“You should park farther away.”

“You just have an opinion about everything today, don’t you?” he said.

Sliding the gearshift into park, Mike unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out. He had taken three long strides toward the front entrance before he realized that Patience hadn’t moved from the passenger side. Stepping around, he opened the door for her. She slid her legs out the door and then stood up.

“Thank you.”

Shutting the car door with a sigh, Mike offered her his arm, which she took. They walked the short distance to the building’s entryway. Though it was not yet 10 AM, the temperature had already surpassed the century mark, and that was beneath the large orange awning that covered most of downtown. Stepping inside though, they found an entirely different experience. It was dark and the air conditioners seemed to be working overtime.

“Damn, it’s cold in here,” said Mike. “I wish I’d worn my other shirt. You must be freezing in that little outfit.”

Patience stopped and stared at him.

“Yes, I get it. You set out the shirt I should have worn and your temperature range is blawdy blawdy blawdy.”

Senta looked through the glass of the small clear bottle at the milky green liquid inside. She swirled it around. It was just thick enough that the potion coated the inside of the glass.

“So if I drink this, I’ll be beautiful?” she wondered.

“I would be most surprised,” said Zurfina the Magnificent, who was lying naked across the divan. “You haven’t done it properly. It’s supposed to be a lovely forest green—not a putrid olive.”

“I used all the right ingredients and I put them in, in the right order.”

“But you didn’t maintain the necessary aura.”

“Aura? Kafira’s fanny! I didn’t need to worry about the aura when I was making happiness potion.”

“Trained lizzies could mix blessudine. It’s the easiest potion to make. Hermosatin is twice as difficult, amorazine more difficult than that, and dionoserin more difficult still.”

“Alright,” huffed Senta. “In exactly which part did I let my aura drop?”

“The rose petals.”

“Well, I can’t do it again. I don’t have any more rose petals. Why do you need rose petals anyway? I can understand cucumbers. Cucumbers are vegetables and vegetables are supposed to be good for you. I’ve never heard roses were good for you. I don’t even think you’re supposed to eat them.”

“Do you want to be a sorceress or a chemist?” said Zurfina, sitting up. “Do you think this is a science experiment? Cucumber is essential, but not because it’s good for you. It represents a man.”

“A man?”

“A specific part of a man anyway.”

“His todger?” asked Senta, incredulously.

“Yes, of course. And the rose petals represent the woman.”

“Her fanny? His todger and her fanny? And I’m supposed to drink this?”

“Relax,” said Zurfina, rising to her feet. “It’s not like it has the real bits in it. They are just representatives. That’s what magic is about. Dionoserin doesn’t have walnuts because they have any real connection to your brain. They just sort of look like a brain when you take them out of their shell.”

“I’ve had enough for today.”

“Yes, so have I,” said Zurfina, heading for the staircase. “Your ineptitude has completely worn me out. I’m going to take my beauty sleep. You should read your primer. You’ve been neglecting your studies.”

“What will happen if I drink this?” asked Senta, holding up the small bottle.

“It might be interesting to find out,” said her mistress, stopping on the first step to watch. “Go ahead and drink it.”

The girl tilted the bottle to her lips and swallowed the contents down. She licked her lips and waited, but nothing seemed to happen.

“It tastes alright,” she said.

“That’s the spearmint.”

“What does it represent?”

“It doesn’t represent anything,” said Zurfina, ascending the stairs. “It just makes it taste good.”

Senta followed Zurfina up the stairs, but stopped at her own room as the sorceress continued on. Going to the bookcase, she pulled out primer number six. She plopped herself onto her bed and began reading about the classification of animals. The people who had put the book together had obviously never been to Birmisia. They had the animals of the world divided into nice neat categories— invertebrates, fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds, and mammals. The deinonychus and velociraptors that wandered around the edges of Port Dechantagne had feathers, so they must be birds. Yet they seemed to have much more in common with the iguanodons that had moved south into the forest. They were reptiles, weren’t they? Senta decided to think more on the topic at a later time. She was running around in her unders and right now she was starting to feel the cold creep in around her. She went to the cast iron stove and tossed a few more logs in. The firebox on this floor was almost empty and it was her job to keep it full. One of these days Zurfina would teach her a spell for filling the firebox, or at least for carrying big piles of wood easily up the stairs.

She went to the window and peered out. The sun was going down and it was all grey and white amid the trees. The wind whistled on the other side of the thin pane of glass. Five days earlier the storm had rolled in from the north and it hadn’t let up since. She hadn’t been outside in that whole time and no one had come to visit her either. Senta resolved to go visiting on the morrow regardless of the weather. She opened the primer again, but ten minutes passed without her reading another word.

She heard the front door a level below open and slam shut. It never occurred to her that someone would enter who had no business being there. This was Zurfina the Magnificent’s home and such an action would have been more than reckless– it would have been suicidal. She turned her head toward the stairway and watched until the graceful form of the steel dragon danced over the top step.

“Pet,” said Bessemer.

“Come here and warm me up,” Senta commanded.

The dragon’s long, lithe body crossed the room in two quick steps and hopped onto the bed with her. A moment later his body was on top of hers, his neck was wrapped around hers, with his head resting on her chest, and his long tail was wrapped around her right leg. His scaly skin felt hard and smooth, but he was exceptionally warm. It was like having a big scaly hot water bottle.