The Lady and the Painter
There once was a Lizard from Paris named Hugo. One day Hugo decided that he would make the grandest painting of the duchess of Squirmingtire, which was a provincial estate only 2 miles from Hugo's lofty studio. So he gathered his kit and headed off on his bike, down the winding streets of Paris to the outskirts into Squirmingtire. He skidded to a halt outside a lavish building, it had a very gaudy feeling to it, that reminded Hugo of the nobles of old.
Gathering his wits, he pushed past the rusted iron gate up the chiseled steps to the landing. Before he could knock the door creaked open to just reveal a tiny pair of eyes in the narrow slit between door and jam. Pausing a moment Hugo went to speak, but before he could utter a syllable, the eyes disappeared and left him standing there a good minute or two. Scuffing his feet on the ground, eyes swivelling in his head, he decided he had waited long enough and rang the doorbell. A loud clammer was heard from inside the manor, then a rake l