Mr. Furvinday sat on the chair in the middle of the room cradling his head in his hands as he slumped forward. As he squeezed his eyes shut he prayed fervently that his discovery was naught but a dream yet he knew deep down that the dog was gone even before he opened his eyes.
The huge metal ring that had been used to tether the dog to the solid granite walls lay broken amongst the rubble on the floor. It appeared as if a sledgehammer-carrying giant had intended to pulverise each and every slab used in the construction of the room itself, such was the destruction that had greated Mr Furvinday when he entered from his office next door. There too lay the shredded collar made of Bronticiasaur leather (the native dinosaur species of the Downworld) and the premium grade titanium chain that had cost a small fortune to manufacture. The bonds that had secured his prize possession had been broken and now within the deathly silence of that room, the candy maker understood that he was broken t