Donald the Dinosaur

Donald the Dinosaur woke up slowly. His mouth felt bad. Things weren’t right somehow.

He clambered stiffly out of the toy box and looked round the playroom. It was strangely quiet and there was something different, something he couldn’t put his finger on. Where were the other toys?

Suddenly he noticed an odd thing — big square letters in front of him — P O G S U Y A C B — the building blocks! Put carefully on top of each other, stretching across most of the room.

“Huh??” said Donald.

“Are you awake now, Donald?” said a voice from behind the blocks — it was Barbie. Donald liked Barbie.

“Uh-huh”, confirmed Donald.

“Well, me and the others, we built this wall because we don’t want to play with you any more. You’re mean and you don’t care about any of us. It’s no fun in the playroom these days.”

Donald tried to guffaw, but it came out as a bleat. Why did his mouth feel so odd?

He lolloped slowly along the wall until he reached the end where the toys had run out of bricks, and peered round carefully. They were in a huddle, and it unnerved him that they didn’t look scared of him as usual, more sort of sad and sorry.

The only one not in the huddle was Mrs Fluffikins. She was sitting up, very still, in her cat basket, staring unblinkingly straight at him with her scary cat’s eyes.

Donald tried to smile charmingly, but it must have been more of a grimace, because the huddle took a step backwards.

Old Uncle Walter came forward. He was the oldest toy in the box, very worn and tired, but he had been Donald’s best buddy. “Thing is, Donald, last night was the final straw I’m afraid. We’ve put up with a lot, but, y’know, every toy has its breaking point. We can’t be your friend when you’re roaring and stamping and just not making sense.”

Even daft old Walt had turned against him! Big tears of self pity started to well up in Donald’s eyes, but he caught sight of Croccy the Crocodile looking at his knowingly, and they welled back down again.

“Don’t you remember what happened?” Walt looked kindly at Donald as he shook his drooping head. “Well, Donald, you’d already upset all the other toys and broken Baby Millie’s stroller and eaten the last piece of Juan’s jigsaw. Then you suddenly grabbed Mrs Fluffikins and she clawed at your face and your tongue came out. It’s over there,” Walt pointed at a small green plastic worm in the corner.

Donald was aghast. His tongue! How could he charm and cajole everyone without his wonderful tongue? His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Mrs Fluffikins licking her lips — her fault! All of them, all their fault. He’d get even. He pushed out at the blocks as he stomped out of the playroom, but only one toppled down.

Baby Millie took out her soother and tugged Barbie’s ballgown, “Why didn’t he push the whole wall over?” she lisped. “He’s so big and strong.”

Barbie bent down, smiling at the upturned face. “Tiny hands”, she whispered.

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