Dexter’s Roll-Ring Ruckus — Under the rafters of Maple Drum Hall, warm butter smelled like sunshine, and Dexter tapped one foot on the polished feast board. Read the full story →
Under the rafters of Maple Drum Hall, warm butter smelled like sunshine, and Dexter tapped one foot on the polished feast board. He had just invented Roll-Ring, a game with one rule: keep the supper rolls circling until somebody laughed crumbs. “Higher!” he gobbled, flipping a soft roll past his hat while pumpkins, corn, and potatoes waited below like a cheering crowd.
The rolls went whoof, whoof, whoof around him. Leaves skittered through the open window, and Dexter added those to the game too, because rules were tastier when they wobbled. He bowed to a carrot, winked at the gravy boat, and spun so fast his tail feathers made a papery shush.
Then the serving platter gave a tiny silver ping. Dexter froze. Every roll landed in a perfect ring around him, and the gravy boat’s handle pointed at the highest score: a dribble shaped like a big, fancy 10.
Dexter fluffed proudly. The feast board had been playing Roll-Ring all along, and it clearly belonged on his team. Next time you spot the rolls over his hat, see if you can tell which one made the platter ping.
