Izzard the Lizard

From his smooth head, protruded two black, beady eyes, which could spot an earwig at fifty paces. Lizards love to eat big, fat, juicy earwigs, but as with most enjoyable things in life, there is a drawback. “You have to bite him, before he bites you!” It is written in the Lizards’ Rule Book.

The longest tongue in the country belonged to Izzard and when it was time for lunch, he merely had to sit and wait until a fly came within reach. Then he would flick out his tongue with lightning speed, and catch the unsuspecting passer-by.

Needless to say, the lady lizards thought that he was very handsome, even thought his manners left a little to be desired.

Gussie, a dainty lady lizard, caught his eye one day. As she fluttered her eyelids shyly, Izzard thought that she was the most beautiful lizard he had ever seen, (next to himself, of course!)

Naturally, he was most upset when she hardly seemed to notice him. In the Lizard Olympics, he showed off outrageously, darting here and there, his fine coat shining in the morning sun. No other lizard could catch him - he was the fastest in the land. It was all to no avail. Gussie didn’t know he existed.

Of course, the more he tried to get her to notice him, the more of a show off she thought he was. “What a proud, haughty fellow he is,” thought Gussie. “He is handsome it is true, but what is the use, if it only leads to vanity? Anyone would think he created his own good looks! Handsome is as handsome does, I always say!” Picking up the dead leaves, she went about her work of tidying the garden.

Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted up and out of her home. Two giant fingers, pink and as big as tree trunks, had her in their grip. Calling for help she tried to bite the huge hand, but she couldn’t reach far enough. Izzard was winning the egg and spoon race (ant eggs were used as they were the right size), and he turned around for Gussie to admire him. Horror of horrors, she wasn’t there! A large ‘Thing’ with grubby knees, was lifting her out of her garden. He knew what knees were, he had six of his own, but he didn’t know to whom they belonged.