> "All right, maggots. Time to see what you can do with those pathetic twigs you call arms!"
> Coach Solly presented to the class a sturdy-looking punching bag he slapped with pride.
> "This baby is pure American manufacturing. It has taken more hits than all of you have taken steps in your lives, and it still stands tall, like a true patriot."
> A smirk crossed his face as his invisible eyes started running across the row of students.
> "So, who shall go first? Spikes? Frills? Shades? Uh... you?
> He seemed to hesitate on making any comment at the oversized Deinosuchus. Considering her hunched posture and her irregular lines of crooked teeth, she probably received enough names already.
> Gertie's head perked up, her eyes shooting anxious glances around. She was probably hoping Coach had meant someone else, but he was staring at her under his cap, as was the rest of the class.
> The simian seemed to shrug internally and waved at her:
> "All right, c'mere."
> Gertie walked with the thuds of her large feet and the scuff of her thick tail dragging along the floor that accompanied her every steps.
> By the time she topped level with the punching ball, Coach's commanding manners were back like they had never left.
> "Now listen, private. I want you to punch baggy here as hard as you can. It doesn't move without putting up a fight, so let's see if it'll give you an inch or two."
> Gertie looked down to the claws at the end of her stubby arms, clenched them into a fist and hurled it at the bag at a jaw-dropping slowness.
> There was a small thud, followed a moment of silence. The bag had not even moved an inch.
> Coach shook his head.
> "Did I stutter? I told you to hit it with all your strength! Not take it to a tea par--"
> The whole room jumped as a POP! filled the room.
> One second, the punching bag was hanging its chain, the next it was nothing but pieces of synthetic leather and foam spread around the room.