Desperately The Boy screamed “I want for to go the twactor wide!”

The Mother kept a firm grip on his tiny tentacle and, with what little composure she could muster after his tirade throughout the store said, “You misbehaved in the store and I told you when we were going in that you could ride it on the way out if you were a good little Boy.”

“I WANT TWACTOR WIDE !”, The Boy screamed, and tiny sparks emitted faintly (some fairly large for a Rigellian of his vintage) from the ends of one of his six not yet fully-formed tentacles. A completely normal bioreaction to frustration for a pre-truncated Rigellian, but his unfortunate mistake was that the tentacle that shot the sparks was the very one The Mother was holding.

“That’s. It. You. Are. In. Big. Trouble!” she half shouted through her clenched mandibles, giving his tentacle a jerk to emphasize each syllable. She dragged him all the way to the vaccu-pod, leaving an angry trail of slime behind. “Just wait until I tell The Fathers!”.