‘True, Humpty, but I’m a talking bear who loves porridge and loathes greedy blonde kids who smash my house. You should’ve seen what that brat did to Junior’s chair.’
‘We all know what bears do in the woods, but houses?’
‘Quite, Humpty. Mind you, I can move about. You’re stuck up there.’
‘I could jump but that has risks. I don’t fancy becoming an omelette.’
Humpty regretted the words on saying them. A porridge-loving bear might well fancy a new egg dish.
And he did.