“The people in this forum. Their knowledge of dragons is incredibly inaccurate, so we’ve been mocking them and setting them straight,” Tigger announced.
“Is that wise? I thought we were keeping your existence a secret for the moment.”
“Bah, I’m not dumb,” Tutu exclaimed. “I created a fresh account with a throwaway email. No name. No address. It’s fine.”
Rather than get in a debate over how they chose to entertain themselves—trolling people online—I commented, “Glad to see you both getting along.”
“The dragon and I have come to a mutual understanding,” Tutu declared.
“Keanu has more use than expected,” added Tigger. “He’s been expanding my knowledge of this modern world.”
“This afternoon, we’re gonna rip apart some dragon movies.”
“With popcorn!” an excited Tigger added.
It occurred to me to forbid Reign of Fire, a bleak flick where the dragons torched Earth and decimated mankind, but that would probably make them more likely to put it first on their watch list.
“How to Train Your Dragon is a fun one,” I stated, heading for the fridge to see what leftovers we had for a quick meal.
“Cartoons, bah.” Tutu might not mind CGI and other cinematic tricks, but he’d never been one for animation. “We will begin with Dragonheart. A classic.”
Not a bad choice. I grimaced, as the fridge didn’t reveal anything I could simply reheat.
“What happened to all the food?”
“We need more. Our Tigger is a growing boy.”
Our Tigger? When had Tutu suddenly become fond of my pet? Or should I call His Imperiousness my owner?
“Given the lack of anything, you’ll have to grab yourself dinner from a restaurant since I’m going out tonight.”
“So I heard. You’re meeting with our client again, but not for business. Is that wise?”
“Probably not,” I admitted with a shrug as I opened our freezer to see a box of corn dogs and a few pizza pockets. Junk food, I know, but I didn’t always want to create meals from scratch. I grabbed all of them, since I assumed Tigger and Tutu would want some. I threw the ones I planned to eat in the air fryer and the rest in the microwave. Was it rude of me to toast mine and give them theirs nuked? Not really, because neither of them would care, as they prized quantity over quality.
“You will call and cancel,” my grandfather commanded.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
I leaned against the counter with my arms crossed. “It’s not up to you.”
“I don’t see why you’d even bother. You don’t have anything in common,” Tutu argued.
“Not true,” Tigger interjected. “They are both my servants.”
“Making them coworkers. Even worse.” Tutu shook his head. “You leave me choice, Iolana. I forbid it.”
The decree arched my brow. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“You live under my roof.”
“A situation I can easily change.”
“Gonna move into your boyfriend’s mansion?” Tutu queried with a sneer.
“Maybe I will.” Not actually, but it was worth it to see Tutu’s face turn red.
