“I am Block.” He spoke in the slow measured tones reserved for deaf old ladies, foreigners and idiots.

“Block,” squeaked the creature.

“I am your king. You will obey.”

“King Block. Obey,” chanted the creature, its voice tinny and robotic with a sharpened edge, like tiny metal fingernails down an undersized blackboard. His antennae stood rigidly to attention.

“Nicodemus. Your name is Nic-o-de-mus.”

The creature kicked experimentally at a curled up woodlouse, a shiny brown football rolling and bumping through the mighty stalks of cress.

“What is your name?” asked Block.

“Nic-o-de-mus.” He squinted up at his King. “Nicodemus is hungry, oh great one.”

“Wood-louse,” Block told him, flicking it lightly with a pen stained finger. “Mmm, yum yum.”

He watched as the creature scooped up the unfortunate louse in his front paws and bit down, hard.

“Bleurgh!” he squeaked. “Nasty. Nicodemus will have what you are having.”

He looked up imploringly at Block’s grilled cheese sandwich.

“But you’re supposed to eat the ants and woodlice. What about a spider?”

“Oh Block, purleeeeeaaase.” The creature’s red veined eyes bulged with longing.

“OK. Fine. Whatever. Trust me, you won’t like it.” He tore off a corner, oozing with greasy orange cheese, and placed it inside the tank. Nicodemus fell upon it at once, tearing at the toasted bread carcass with his tiny razor teeth, slurping up the slimy cheesed innards with a noisy sigh of pleasure.

“Yum, yum,” he cried, dancing an uneven nine-legged jig of delight across the flattened cress, as he wiped at the matted fur of his mouth with his remaining leg. “Delicious. Oh Block, oh great one. Nicodemus is so happy. Nicodemus will obey.”

“Very good,” said Block with a pompous nod. “You have learnt well.” And then, with the first lesson having reached its unanticipated early conclusion, Block refilled the water bowl, replaced the tank lid and retired for the evening, leaving his linguistically precocious protégé muttering dark thoughts to the spiders and punctured blue sky beyond.

.