“I can’t get this itching to stop,” complains Disco, brow furrowed as she steps away from a peeling-bark Beech. “Think I ran into a patch of poison ivy.”
Cracking his knuckles, Doodles steps toward her. “Oh, here–let me help. I’ve been waiting to put my PhD in back-scratchery to use.”
“Ah…thank you! That feels great!” exclaims Disco. “See? I knew that degree would come in handy!”