“Flip you for it,” he challenged.

“You’re on,” she assented.

“Heads,” he said.

“I’ll go tails.”

He did a twisting somersault-and-a-half, landing on his head.

She scoffed and triple-flipped backwards, coming to rest on her strong, poofy tail.

“You win,” he said. “Nice tail! Grow it yourself?”

“Nope. Plastic surgery.”