‘I am your friend.’ ‘Um … what are you, exactly?’ ‘That doesn’t matter right now.’ ‘It doesn’t matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey –’ Grover let out a sharp, throaty ‘Blaa-ha-ha!’ I’d heard him make that sound before, but I’d always assumed it was a nervous laugh. Now I realized it was more of an irritated bleat. ‘Goat!’ he cried. ‘What?’ ‘I’m a goat from the waist down.’ ‘You just said it didn’t matter.’ ‘Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you under hoof for such an insult!’
