Granula Crump folded her formidable forearms. ‘Bit fancy,’ she sniffed.
Igneous Crump shrugged his boulder like shoulders, sighing, ‘It’s the modern way, my Gritsome.’
‘My school just had mallets and a place to beat your head against a stone. Didn’t do me any harm.’ Absently she touched the side of her head where the six inch depression lay.
‘We live in a different world. Fissure needs the best education if he’s to make it as a modern ogre.’
Just then an enormous man with a face like a cliff appeared. Granula sucked in a breath. ‘See what I mean. He’s combed his hair. I hope they don’t expect Fissure to preen. He’s a rock solid ogre. I’ll not_’
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