The good and kind dragon

The following is a short story written by a friend who chooses to write under the name "Angelo Hudson". I hope you enjoy it! I know I couldn't stop laughing!

~Erin

The Story of the

Good and Kind Dragon

By

Angelo Hudson

I

It was the first day of the third week of the year. Young Drivelus trembled with anticipation. Or fear… or maybe both.

You see, several months ago, a great famine had swept through the land. As that was several months ago, the food stores were depleted and the water jars had run dry, and everyone was hungry, and thirsty, and cranky.

And it was up to young Drivelus to enlist the aid of a Dragon, a Dragon of Good and Kind repute…. the fate of the land was in Drivelus’s impeccably manicured hands.

Trembling with anticipation and fear, young Drivelus knocked on the Good and Kind Dragon’s great brass doorknocker, denting the knuckles in his hands and wrecking his impeccable manicure. He decided to try knocking the doorknocker instead of knocking on it, and in this he succeeded without sustaining injury.

Trembling with anticipation and fear, young Drivelus sat for forty-five minutes in the cold and wet waiting for the Good and Kind Dragon to arise and drag his scaly bohunkus to the door.

Trembling with just fear this time, young Drivelus wet his trousers when the Good and Kind Dragon stuck his Good and Kind nose out into the cold and wet.

Trembling with anticipation, young Drivelus begged of the Good and Kind Dragon’s mercy.

“O Good and Kind Dragon,” began young Drivelus.

“WHAT,” demanded the Good and Kind Dragon, rather irritably. Let the record show that the Good and Kind Dragon is neither Good nor Kind before his morning coffee.

“O Good and Kind Dragon,” young Drivelus began again, “as you must know, a great famine has swept through the land. The elders have sent me to beg of your Good and Kind Mercy; that you would bequeath upon this humble worm (being me), Gold, so that we may buy food.”

The Good and Kind Dragon said “Very well, you will never be hungry again” and he ate young Drivelus, thus fulfilling his promise and snagging himself breakfast. For that was the sort of Good and Kind Dragon he was.

II

The next day it was the second day of the third week of the year. Young Idiocus trembled, with excitement and downright terror. He reached for the Good and Kind Dragon’s great brass doorknocker. He knocked, once, twice, three times.

And as he sat in the cold and wet for fifty minutes as he waited for the Good and Kind Dragon to arise and drag his scaly bohunkus to the door, he drew up innovative blueprints for a porch with a tarp that covered the top.

And as his pants didn’t get much wetter than they already were when the Good and Kind Dragon stuck his Good and Kind nose out into the cold and wet, he decided not to sweat it (as that would get him wetter still) and begged of the Good and Kind Dragon’s Mercy.

“O Good and Kind Dragon,” began young Idiocus, forgetting that the Good and Kind Dragon was neither good nor kind before his morning coffee, “Blah blah blah blah blah famine blah blah blah elders blah blah sent blah blah blah blah blah blah gold… etc.”

“Very well, said the Good and Kind Dragon, “you may have your weight in gold, and much more besides…” he adjourned to his cave and returned with seven tonnes of gold, which he deposited rather roughly upon young Idiocus’ head. Then he ate young Idiocus for breakfast, and neither of them was hungry any more. For that was the sort of Good and Kind Dragon he was.

III

The Good and Kind Dragon was in a rather foul mood when he arose and dragged his scaly tail to the door on the third day of the third week of the year. He had just discovered he was out of coffee and had little patience for prating shrimplings with too much time on their hands.

But he was a Good and Kind dragon, and he had a reputation to keep up; so he straightened his proverbial tie, smoothed his proverbial hair, and magnanimously answered the door with a smile on his face and a scowl in his heart.

“O Good and Kind Dragon,” squeaked young Moronicus, “may you live forever.”

The Good and Kind Dragon thought this a rather decent way to start a request and the scowl in his heart lessened a little.

However, it downturned exponentially as he gave ear to young Moronicus’ exorbitant and ridiculous demands, which included written apologies to Drivelus and Idiocus, the seven tonnes of gold which he dropped on Idiocus’ head, and could he spare seventy mules with which to take the gold home?

The Good and Kind Dragon said “I am the Good and Kind Dragon, and will act as such. Therefore, I am bequeathing upon you exactly three seconds to get off my turf before I have to hurt you.” For that was the sort of Good and Kind Dragon he was.

True to his name, young Moronicus did not take the hint, sugarcoated and subtle as it was. “I have more demands!” he protested.

The next few minutes were spent running around and holding the seat of his pants… but again no hint, however sugarcoated or subtle, was taken, and rather severe measures were employed. In the end, the Good and Kind Dragon graced young Moronicus with ever-unequaled and never-equaled mercy. Young Moronicus was not hungry anymore, and would never be hungry again. For that was the sort of Good and Kind Dragon he was.

IV

It was the fourth day of the third week of the year. Young Lunacus trudged up the mountainside to the cave of the Good and Kind Dragon, hesitated with apprehension, and knocked the great brass doorknocker. And he waited an hour for the Good and Kind Dragon to arise and drag his scaly bohunkus to the door, as so many others had done before him. And when the Good and Kind Dragon stuck his Good and Kind nose out into the cold and wet, he hit him on the head with a great big club and delivered a list of demands, which included the aforementioned, and he also wondered if the Good and Kind Dragon would return the Weber that had been employed to such good use in the case of young Moronicus?

The Good and Kind Dragon smiled a rather cynical smile and wondered aloud what a shallow end of the gene pool from which young Lunacus must have spawned, to think that he could march up to his door, smite him upon the head with a great big club, and rattle off a list of demands that no one in their sane mind would either think of or comply with?

Young Lunacus was a rather impatient fellow, and while the Good and Kind Dragon was still immersed in contemplation, he strode past the Good and Kind Dragon, marched into his cave, and fell down the deep, deep pit the Good and Kind Dragon had dug for uninvited visitors, where he spent the remainder of his life eating gruel. For that was the sort of Good and Kind Dragon he was… he didn’t eat ALL his visitors.

V

It was the fifth day of the third week of the year. Young Psychoticus tightened his belt as he waited for the Good and Kind Dragon to arise and drag his scaly bohunkus to the door. The famine was still as real as ever, and all who had asked of the Good and Kind Dragon’s mercy had met singularly unpleasant fates according to their rank and station (and the exorbitance of their demands), and young Psychoticus was rather tense. He tightened his belt some more, and then a little more, and then a little more, and he had just realized that he was blue in the face when the Good and Kind Dragon stuck his Good and Kind nose out into the cold and wet. “Stand and deliver!” bade the Good and Kind Dragon.

Young Psychoticus launched into his sales pitch, ticked the Good and Kind Dragon off in a royal fashion with his ridiculous demands, and was eaten up so he didn’t suffocate himself with his belt. For that was the sort of Good and Kind Dragon he was.

VI

It was the sixth day of the third week of the year. The Good and Kind Dragon was awakened yet again by the sound of knocking at his door, and contemplated taking the door off altogether and installing a curtain instead, so that if people knocked, he couldn’t hear it.

The Good and Kind Dragon arose, dragged his scaly bohunkus to the door, and torched poor young Nonsensicus, with his regards. For that was the sort of Good and Kind Dragon he was.

VII

It was the seventh day of the third week of the year. The angry people of the land came knocking at The Good and Kind Dragon’s curtain, which the Good and Kind Dragon found perplexing as to how that was even possible. He arose, dragged his scaly bohunkus to the curtain, poked his Good and Kind nose out into the cold and wet, and rolled his eyes.

A most corpulent elder was perched upon a litter, breaking the backs of those who bore the litter and looking proprietary. He began to read off a list of demands… but then all the people of the land fell over dead from famine. The Good and Kind Dragon gave a lovely funeral service for them all, and then he ate them…

For THAT was the sort of Good and Kind Dragon he was.