Turtle (by Justin L.)

​Paul let Bindi the snake-necked turtle out of her enclosure to saunter around. According to the local pet shop, this kind of exercise would help to condition her gastrocnemius muscles. Whatever that was.
 
As Paul whistled and made himself breakfast, Bindi wandered around the dining room, minding her own business. Such as how she hadn’t had breakfast, how she was ravenous, and turtle pellets tasted like cardboard (she had personal experience of both).
 
Five minutes later, a loud shredding sound alerted the turtle owner to trouble. Running into the living room, Paul saw that the naughty turtle had ripped a massive tear in the wallpaper PLUS she had pooped all over the lovely, comfy sofa! Mouth open in horror, he grabbed the struggling criminal and dumped her in the hallway before returning to his (now cold) breakfast.
 
The day had NOT started well for Paul.
 
Bindi the Turtle wasn’t finished with her “exercise”. Waddling into her master’s office, she used that marvelously long neck to pull a photograph from a shelf.
 
It was an A2 sized, black-and-white photograph taken in 1934 during the Great Depression. In the image, several young kids – including Paul’s grandfather – were cheerfully parading along a brick wall. Granddad was now sadly senile, and the photo reminded the family he hadn’t always been that way. Restoring its faded pigments had cost Paul hundreds of dollars, and whenever he looked at the simple joy on Granddad’s face, he would smile wistfully and wish he had actually known the boy in the picture.
 
But Bindi didn’t have a mouth to smile with. She didn’t really care about any of the people in the photo either. The photograph was torn, ripped, shredded and scrunched under Bindi’s unforgiving beak and sharp claws. Mercilessly she mutilated Paul’s loving memory, gouging great holes in the glossy paper. She was so intent on her task that she didn’t hear Paul’s horrified screams, although she did feel somewhat alarmed at being thrown several metres across the house onto the recently pooped-on sofa.
 
Paul had had enough! He snatched Bindi up, and several forms of gruesome and ghastly punishment ran through his mind.
 
However, Paul wasn’t the only one that was ticked off. Bindi had been separated from her prey once too many, and it was time for tempers to clash. It was time for Turtle to meet Man in epic battle. Or at least for Turtle to meet Man’s fingers!
 
Paul yelped as he felt Super-Villain utterly defeat her foe. Sometimes he really hated Bindi! Tossing her into the enclosure and slamming the door in her face gave him great satisfaction, and he walked away, determined to finish his breakfast (despite the flies).
 
But Bindi was smart, Bindi was intelligent, Bindi was resourceful, Bindi couldn’t think of any more words with which to describe herself. With typical reptilian patience, Super-Villain waited till her luckless owner had gone. Then she ate the lock, and began her resolute crawl towards Paul’s passport…