The front door opened, and a small figure emerged. He was dressed in only a pair of green cotton shorts, but his upper body was wrapped in tin foil, which covered most of the jet black fur on his chest, belly and arms. Rather than walking down the steps, he bounced one step at a time until he stood on the gravelled path that led to the street. Normally he would have been running around in circles by now, or chasing his own tail until he fell over, but he had to move slowly to keep the foil from falling off. Careful, controlled motions were difficult for any five-year-old wolf pup, but for Dave it was almost torture.

He trotted over to his bike and sat down on the saddle. To his mind, he was mounted atop a mighty stallion, and was looking out over open plains towards an oncoming army of enemies, rather than the quiet street outside his suburban home. While his fingers slid over the handle bars, imagining them to be reins, he stared at the empty bike next to him. An impatient snort escaped his nostrils, and annoyance lit up his brightly blue eyes.

"Hey, Timmy!" he shouted, turning back towards the house. "You comin' or what?"

"Just a sec," came the timid reply from inside the house. "I can't get my towel to stay up."

"It's not a towel," Dave growled, rolling his eyes. "How many times do I gotta tell ya?"

The wolf pup watched as another boy came out, and closed the door behind him. Timmy kept fidgeting with his kitchen towel, trying to make it stay in place. That was all he wore, Dave had made sure of that. Everything had to be perfect. If the little wolf had known the words 'authentic' and 'mediaeval', he would have used them as persuasion to get his will. As it were, he had had to forcefully remove Timmy's faded denim shorts, tattered shirt and Wolf Star briefs, then tie the towel on. He watched the grey kangaroo boy slowly, cautiously, descend the steps, then stop to resume his fidgeting.

"It just won't stay on! I'm gonna end up nekkid."

"No, you won't," Dave comforted. "It's gonna be fine."

"How come you get to wear armour and I gotta have this stupid towel?"

"It's not a towel, Timmy, use your 'magination. It's a lion clothe."

"Are you sure that's what it's called?"

"Uh-huh," Dave nodded. "I read it in the book. They used to wear them in the old days. Not the knights of course, they gotta wear armour to pertect themselves."

"Tin foil?" Timmy asked, pulling at a shiny strip on Dave's arm. The wolf boy slapped his fingers away, and Timmy returned to his towel. "Why can't it stay up!?"

"It's not tin foil! Use your 'magination."

"I wanna be the knight."

"Next time. This time I'm him, 'cause I thought up this game. You're the squirt."

"Are you sure that's what it's called?"

"Uh-huh! Every knight's gotta have his faithful squirt by his side, to... uhm." Dave hesitated. He could read a little bit, but to be honest he had spent a lot more time looking at the pictures in the book, than actually reading it. "Uhm... to help him carry his sword and stuff."

"You mean that stick?"

"How many times do I gotta say it? We're playing! Use your 'magination!"

Unable to stay still any longer Dave pulled on his bicycle helmet, wishing it could be more like shiny steel, stomped down on the pedals of his bike and started riding up and down the path. He kept swaying dangerously from side to side, but his horse's training wheels kept him from falling over. Meanwhile, Timmy had managed to keep his towel up by lifting his sturdy kangaroo tail, but instead of mounting up he walked his bike towards the street. Dave passed him by a couple of times, squealing happily even though strips of tin foil were falling away from him. They both paused at the curb to readjust the knight's armour, then started heading for the playground, Timmy still leading his bike.

"Come on!" Dave urged. "Get up!"

"But I can't pedal in this thing," Timmy complained, tugging at his towel. "My danglies will show."

"Aww. How are we gonna find any damsels in distress this way?"

"Are you sure that's what they're called?"

"Uh-huh. Knights gotta save damsels in distress, or kill dragons. Or ride out to do battle with the king."

"Why'd he wanna do battle with the king? Aren't they on the same side?"

"Noo, not battle with! I mean, like, battle with. With the king."

"Can't we do that back here? Or at least let me put on my undies, so I don't gotta do battle nekkid."

"Oh, all right. We can pretend like you've just got your lion clothe."

"Yay!"

Timmy pulled his bike onto Dave's lawn and left it there as he dashed towards the house. Before he could reach the steps, though, Dave rode up to him and grabbed his shoulder. With only one hand steering the bike, he fell over immediately, dragging his friends with him. It took a while for the mess of boys and bike to untangle itself, then Dave had to re-attach his armour and Timmy had to find his towel. Good thing this isn't the playground, the little kangaroo thought to himself, his cheeks burning as he covered himself up.

"That was fun," Dave giggled, placing one strip of foil on his helmet to make it more steely. "Sorry I tripped you, tho."

"S'okay. No big owie. But why did you stop me?"

"I just thought of something we can do."

"A satchel in distress?"

"Damsel. And yeah, pretty much. With me, faithful squirt!"

"Are you...?"

"Yeah, I'm sure!" Dave took his friend's hand and led him onto the lawn, towards the back of the house. "This way."

They trotted along until they reached the corner leading to the poolside patio, where Dave held his friend back. Ever so cautiously, they peered around the corner towards the pool. Lying on the grass nearby were Dave's fourteen-year-old sister Danielle, and her friend Kessandra. Timmy's tail started wagging at the sight of the skunk girl; Kessie had babysat him a couple of times, and he liked her. But when he tried to walk up to say hello, Dave held him back again.

"Aren't we gonna say hi?"

"Nope. They're what I wanted to show you."

"They are?" Timmy looked at the girls, with a puzzled expression on his face. "But they're just sunbathing, they don't look like they're distressing."

"Well, not yet."

"What are you talking about?" Timmy turned to his friend, only to gasp as he saw a devious smile on Dave's lips and two well-filled water balloons in his hands. "Where did you get those?"

"I always keep a few ready. In case we need 'em."

"I believe you." Timmy shook his head. "But you're not gonna...?"

"Dragon monsters!" Dave shrieked, making Timmy jump. "Prepare to do battle! Sir David the Wolf-Hearted challenges you!"

With that, he tossed the balloons with deadly accuracy, and Timmy closed his eyes as he heard the first screams. When he looked up again, both girls were soaked through to the skin, and they were all but fuming with anger.

"What do we do now, brave knight?" he hissed, but there was no answer. "Brave knight?"

He turned to where Dave had just stood, but all he saw was a strip of tin foil falling lazily towards the ground. Angry shouts from the girls pulled him out of his stupor, and he raced after his obviously not-so-brave knight friend. Dave had tripped on some of his foil armour, and by the time he was up and running again the two boys were neck to neck. Behind them, Timmy could hear footsteps coming closer. An extra burst of speed cost him his lion clothe, but right then he didn't really care about his modesty.

Screaming at the tops of their lungs, the knight and his squirt ran for their lives, while the dragons kept gaining on them.