With a head composed of my middle finger and legs forged from the other four (yes, that's counting the thumb, you pedants), Roger the Dinosaur was the absolute smash of Bronte School's Class 6S... until it was bettered when Mark Anderson offered to chew ink cartridges for 20p. A feat which I have still not been able to top, ten years on.

My dinosaur friends were Righty and Lefty. Righty was the good one, always saving princesses and the like, whereas Lefty would invariably end up dead.

In addition, I have chewed ink cartridges for my own enjoyment, and dearly wish I had been paid 20p for it.

My friend and I enjoyed nothing more than recreating in Attenborough-esque detail the savage zoological struggle for survival on the desk tops. My hands would form the "predators" in exactly the same way as Roger above. My friend would take on the role of the "pogolopes", a 3-legged creature made up of his first two fingers and a thumb. The predators would invariably maul the pogolopes until in a move of evolutionary brilliance the pogolopes learned to jump to great heights and escape the predators clutches. In response, the predators evolved to leap and float down with their legs spread like a parachute.
Nobody ever questioned any of this. We were 17.

My 'finger friend' was the Half-Blind Raccoon. He was created by painting your thumbnail black and adding half a black raccoon mask to your middle finger. Then you would place the black nail over the missing half of the mask and wiggle your fingers. It was obligatory to yell 'half-blind raccoon' whilst shoving it in a nearby classmates face.
Try as I might, I can't visualise how on God's Earth this works. If anyone wants to send in a photo, please be my guest. - Matt