The next morning I gave the incident little heed until I had cause to venture along the Edgebaston Road for my newspaper and snuff. There, crumpled in a heap and preventing the egress of north-bound vehicular traffic (including, I noted, a charabanc of schoolchildren) lay the slowly-putrefying carcass of a pterodactyl. It's flanks were peppered by burn marks which appeared to have been uncannily made by some form of intensely-focussed light beam. I hastened to the constabulary-house, whereupon I was duly informed by Sergeant O’Reilly that the duty log had noted an incident in the area at a late hour.
“An incident?” I queried.
“Yes sir,” replied O’Reilly, “Constable Tibbins has recorded it as a fracas, but between you and me, he’s new and prone to exaggeration.”
I thanked the Sergeant and, fortified in the knowledge that justice had been served, continued to the tobacconist.
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