Puck looks at the corridor. Empty. He tiptoes to the door, holding onto the colored egg as if his life was depending on it, trying not to drop the pillow squeezed under his arm. He places the pillow on the floor, and carefully installs the egg in the middle of it. One last look, a little dusting of the egg with his sleeve, then Puck wiggles his nose and disappears.

Sam nearly trips on the egg when he gets out of his apartment, one hour later. He stares at the colored thing. It takes him a few seconds to realize what it is. His sigh would make an Oklahoma twister sound like a light breeze. He slowly rubs the sides of his nose, as if it could calm him in any way.

“We are NOT raising a Dragon in Manhattan !” he yells

Hidden in the broom closet, Puck giggles.