Or – A Klutzy Dragon
© Peter L. Barnes March 2020
The Dragon picked bacon bits from between her teeth, with her especially sharpened claw. Breakfast had been perfect. Ten bacon slices crispy; twenty fried eggs, soft but with crackling white; thirty spicy sausages, straight from the farm; fresh vine tomatoes; a pile of wild portobello mushrooms; finished off with a 500-gram raw and bloody steak.
She paid her bill, surprisingly low, and walked down the hill to finish off with a lovely cappuccino at the local Tiffanies Coffee shop. She walked through a field enjoying the sunshine when she came upon a pixie sitting in the middle of the grass munching on clover.
“Pixie Lott, how are you?” asked Priscilla.
“I’m fine,” said Pixie. “Why are you not flying?”
“I can never fly on a big breakfast.”
“I don’t know why I gave you powers, maybe I should take them away.”
“Maybe not,” said Priscilla, belching out a ring of fire all around the pixie. “I know you love trapping people in a pixie ring, now see how you feel.”
Arriving at the edge of the sea, Priscilla found a beautiful mermaid sunning herself on a rock, crunching on an unfortunate lobster, quietly singing to herself.
“How does the lobster feel?”
“Crunchie,” said the Mermaid, licking her lips.
“Not how does it taste, feel?”
“And the pigs you ate this morning?”
“Grateful for a humane death, unlike eating the lobster alive.”
“How would you expect me to cook food under water?” asked the Mermaid.
“Find a hot pool,” said Priscilla blasting a small pool in front of the Mermaid’s feet until it started boiling over.
The mermaid looked down at the small pool where several snails in seaweed were bubbling away.
“Looks tasty,” said the mermaid. “Pity about the rest of the pond life though!”
Priscilla walked further along the seashore checking out the debris piled up amongst the weeds, coming across the White Unicorn resplendent with her rainbow stripes, shining out in the bright morning sunshine.
“Morning Wolfmother,” said Priscilla.
“Morning Priscilla,” said the Unicorn. “Why do you always call me that?”
“Look it up,” said Priscilla. “Anyway, what are you doing?”
“Cleaning up the plastic,” said the White Unicorn, tugging a large sack of plastic fragments along the beach, using her white flowing tail.
“Let me help,” said Priscilla.
“No don’t do that,” as the unicorn saw the dragon taking a deep breath and punching a fire ball at the bag.
Woof went the bag, sending up a cloud of burnt plastic smoke into the sky, blocking out the sunshine.
When the smoke had cleared, the Unicorn stood amidst the wreckage, her tail shrivelled up and her glorious coat blackened.
“Thanks for nothing,” said the Unicorn, as Priscilla strode away.
Walking further along the beach she found a small child looking down at the pebbles and a Fairy godmother asking her what the matter was.
“I’ve dropped my stone,” wailed the child. “How will I find it now?”
“Was it special?”
“Of course,” said the girl. “It was my pet stone; I’d painted it black.”
“I can help,” said the fairy godmother, about to cast a spell to reveal the stone
“So, can I,” said Priscilla, and unleashed a stream of fire, blackening all the stones and inadvertently turning the fairy’s wand into a pile of ash.
“Thanks for nothing dragon,” said the furious godmother.
“But the child now has a choice of loads of stones.”
Priscilla watched a group of gnomes fishing in the incoming waves. The central gnome was sitting on a throne.
“Morning King Cannot.”
“Whatever,” knowing better to interfere, no way is this going to go well.
Walking back up the beach to her local coffee shop, Priscilla came across a wizard and witch, fighting it out over a young lady who was being transformed from a poorly dressed waif into a beautiful princess and back again.
“She won’t go to the ball said the wicked witch, casting the poor spell once again.
“Oh yes she will,” said the Wizard, determined that the young girl would have her chance.
“What’s this, some kind of magic reality show?” queried Priscilla.
“She needs her chance in life,” said the wizard, making her outfit even more sparkling
“No, she needs to finish her chores in my house,” said the wicked witch, “I’m her stepmother and what I say goes.”
Priscilla stepped into the fray and blew a smoke screen over the warring factions.
This time the wicked witches spell went wrong and Cinders stayed in her lovely gown.
“What have you done?” screamed the hag.
“I’ve swapped your wands,” said Priscilla. “You will only be able to make good wishes in future.”
The witch stormed off in a huff.
“I suppose the opposite is true for me,” said the wizard “But I can grant negative spells instead.”
Cinders swept away in the TV’s stretch limousine.
Priscilla sat outside the coffee shop, sipping her cappuccino.
“What’s the problem Pricilla?” said the Prince, joining her.
“Everything seems to be wrong this morning,” she said. “I can’t do anything right.”
“That explains my ever after fairy tale, turning into divorce.”
“Really, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry I was never suited to cold climates,” said the concerned Prince. “How did this all start?”
“It started after breakfast at that café you recommended.”
“I told you they did a wicked breakfast, so it’s your own fault for trying it.”