“Did you see them killing any prawns?”
“I should say! I got a lot of movies of it.” He shook his head slowly. “Jack, this is almost incredible.”
“You’re staying for dinner, of course?”
“You try and chase me away. I want to hear all about this. Want you to make a tape about them, if you’re willing.”
“Glad to. We’ll do that after we eat.” He sat down on the bench, and the Fuzzies began climbing upon and beside him. “This is the original, Little Fuzzy. He brought the rest in a couple of days later. Mamma Fuzzy, and Baby Fuzzy. And these are Mike and Mitzi. I call this one Ko-Ko, because of the ceremonious way he beheads land-prawns.”
“George says you call them all Fuzzies. Want that for the official designation?”
“Sure. That’s what they are, isn’t it?”
“Well, let’s call the order Hollowayans,” Rainsford said. “Family, Fuzzies; genus, Fuzzy. Species, Holloway’s Fuzzy—Fuzzy fuzzy holloway. How’ll that be?”
That would be all right, he supposed. At least, they didn’t try to Latinize things in extraterrestrial zoology any more.
“I suppose our bumper crop of land-prawns is what brought them into this section?”