Calvin walked into the bedroom carrying a paper sack. "Hobbes," he said, jumping up on the bed to sit beside his tiger, "we need to talk." He set the sack down on the bed beside him.

"What about?" Hobbes asked, laying the Captain Napalm comic to one side. "Is it lunch time yet?"

Calvin shook his head, tented his fingers together, breathed in and out, then put his hand on Hobbes's shoulder. "You see, Hobbes, there comes a time in a man's life when he finds the need for companionship. The pursuit of riches, fame, and excellence has a tendency to make him weary of the rat race. Even his most vivid experiences become dull and colorless without somebody by his side to share them with."

Hobbes folded his paws together and looked sad. "I thought I was your somebody."

Calvin grinned up at him. "Of course you are, buddy. I wasn't talking about friendship."

Hobbes smiled slowly. "Oh? Is this about Susie?" He made loud kissy noises and puppy dog eyes.

Calvin made a face. "Ew! Gross! No way!" He jumped up and stood on the bed. "The kind of relationship I had in mind is completely subservient. No equal partnerships or give and take. The master makes the rules, and the servant follows blindly, no questions asked."

Hobbes stroked his chin. "And we all know who the master would be."

Calvin nodded. "Nope, I'm speaking of that time-honored bond between man and animal, from the caveman days onward." He reached into his bag and pulled out a jar with a praying mantis in it. "Hobbes, Ugly. Ugly, Hobbes."

"Ugly?" Hobbes took the jar and studied the bug.

"Can you think of a better name?" Calvin grinned at his mantis. "Look, I already taught him a trick. See? He's saying his prayers."

Hobbes frowned. "I think they already know how to do that."

"No, you don't understand. He's praying to me." Calvin crossed his arms over his chest. "See? The master-servant relationship is already firmly cemented in his little insect brain. Nothing can make him believe otherwise."

Hobbes set the jar on the bed. "Giving him a demeaning name certainly wouldn't help his self-image."

Calvin lay down on the bed, chin in his hands, watching the insect twitching on its stick perch. "Now I'm going to teach you how to bow..."

"Having a bug as a pet is great." Calvin sat in his bedroom desk chair, staring at the mantis. "He's small, so I can take him anywhere." He counted one on his fingers. "He's hideous, so I can scare girls with him. He doesn't eat a lot, so I can buy candy with my allowance instead of pet food. And best of all..." He glared at Hobbes. "He won't try to kill me when I come in the door."

Hobbes sighed, his body stretched out over Calvin's bed.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Calvin carried the jar over to the bed and sat down next to Hobbes. "I'm already Ugly's overlord, but you can be his vice-overlord if you want." He shoved the jar towards the tiger. "Ugly, beg Hobbes for mercy."

Hobbes shrugged. "I don't want to be a vice-overlord."

Calvin frowned. "Oh, really? So you have designs on my position, huh?" he roared. "Well, forget it, pal! There's only room for one overlord in Ugly's theology, and that's me!" He angrily poked Hobbes in the chest with his index finger.

Hobbes frowned back. "That's not it, either." He studied Ugly. "I want a pet, too."

"Oh." Calvin stroked his chin in thought. "I dunno. It was hard enough finding Ugly."

"Maybe he's got a girlfriend somewhere," Hobbes suggested.

Calvin stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Not if he follows me and she follows you. Those multi-faith relationships rarely ever work out."

"Okay, so not a mantis, then." Hobbes thought for a moment. "What do you suggest?"

Calvin's dad walked into the kitchen. He halted midstep, his foot hovering over a small bowl full of bran cereal. He squatted down and looked at the side of the bowl, where someone had inscribed a word in black permanent marker. "Calvin?" he called. "Why is there a dish on the floor labeled "Dad"?"

Calvin screeched to a stop, Hobbes in his arms. He set the tiger down on the kitchen floor. "It's your bowl, Dad. Hobbes has decided to adopt you as a pet."

Dad sighed and picked up the bowl, setting it on the counter. "I'm flattered," he droned in a slightly exasperated voice. "Why me?"

"It was a toss-up between an ant we found in the window screen, me, and you. But then I squooshed the ant by accident, and I'm already Ugly's overlord, so he can't be mine. Then Hobbes picked you." Calvin put his hands on his hips. "He's going to teach you all kinds of tricks."

"Like what?" Dad sat down in a kitchen chair. "I already know how to sit."

"First, he's gonna teach you to speak," Calvin replied, shoving Hobbes in front of him toward's Dad's chair.

Dad leaned forward, his elbows resting on his legs. "I already know how to speak, too."

Calvin shook his head. "Not how to speak. What to speak." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Things like, "My son is a super genius" and "Have some more ice cream" and "Let me do your homework for you.""

Dad regarded him with an annoyed look. "If he could accomplish that, Hobbes would be the super genius, not you."

Calvin smiled, then frowned in thought. "Now, getting you to roll over, that's going to be the hard part..."