Today’s gift is a lunchbox filled with torture devices.
Dino Drac acts like he hates it, but I see through him. Hey, we were all kids once. I’ve pretended to hate great gifts plenty of times, for reasons many and varied. I’m not buying this facade. There is no way a vampire dinosaur wouldn’t want torture devices.
“I’ll level with you. The gifts are fine. I just want to open tomorrow’s, too.”
I knew it was a mistake to start with that. Now he thinks it’s an everyday thing. On the other hand, I’m getting pretty sick of burying the site’s good content with giant Advent Calendar photos, so I tell him to have at it.
It’s a tortoise!
A handsome one, too. Gray skin, blonde shell. In turtle society, that’s the very definition of “hot.”
The tortoise looks agitated. It’s probably because he’s gone nearly three weeks without food or water, only to look up at a wacky owner who clearly won’t be quick about providing either.
Trying to nip that problem in the bud, I urge Dino Drac to take good care of his new friend.
“But what do tortoises eat?”
It’s a million dollar question with a ten dollar answer. Endive, strawberries, zucchini. Tortoises eat like healthy people, basically.
For the next ten minutes, we argue about what to name him. For me, it’s not about the principle. I understand that this is Dino Drac’s tortoise, and that he should get to name it. But I just can’t let the little guy go through life with a name like “Fucky Toots.” I don’t know how Dino Drac came up with it, but I never want to hear “Fucky Toots” again, whether it’s in relation to this tortoise or not.
We settle on “Bleachy.”
He looks like a Bleachy.