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Rated: E · Short Story · Comedy · #1596776
A funny story about a knight and a formidable foe.
Back in the day when there were Knights of the Round Table, there lived a mother and her two sons. Her bravest happened to be named Arnold (after a future bodybuilder) and her younger, meeker son whose name was Arthur. Arnold was always called upon by King William to serve as a knight outside of his lands. Arnold always returned to the small town bragging about how he had slain at least a dozen dragons, rescued many beautiful maidens of distant lands and how he once feasted on a huge, swamp crocodile. On the other hand, Arthur came home bragging about how he had caught a foot-long fish with what he called a “fishing rod” and that he had finally mastered the use of a small wooden sword.
One day (almost every day to Arthur), Arnold was called for by King William. Another mission was set aside for Arthur’s older brother.
“It’s not fair!” exclaimed Arthur waving the small wooden sword in the air.
“Yes it is, Arthur. You are still a baby,” said his mother in an exasperated tone.
“Mother, I am 18 years old!” cried Arthur.
“Arthur, drink up your milk,” said his mother as she handed him a wooden cup filled with goat milk.
Arthur pushed it away from him and ran away from the table and the cot he had made a home for 18 years. He was on his own, finally. Arthur decided it was best if he made his way to the village of King William’s rather small kingdom and find out where his brother had gone. He had been walking for almost an hour across a grassy field in the outskirts of his own town, when he first caught sight of a majestic castle in the distance. Arthur was happy.
After another 30 minutes of walking, he had reached the market of King William’s land. The guards let him in after Arthur’s desperate pleading and his final remark (which was a threat) about how he was going to give them scurvy. Arthur then walked past the gates and decided to buy some apples from the fruit stand to his right. As he approached the stand, he heard two men talking.
“…and now, William has sent him to slay the evil Dragona that lives to the east of this kingdom. Do you think he will make it?” asked a tall, burly man.
“Maybe.” was the only word that had come out of a man whose approximate size was about the same as Arthur’s.
Arthur knew they were speaking of Arnold. Almost instantaneously, he ran past the chatty townspeople and through the gates (which he had much trouble getting past in the first place). He ran through the green field of grass in the outskirts of King William’s kingdom.
Since Arthur had trouble with direction, he chose to go west instead of east.
Arthur’s long journey had begun. All of the energy he had once had when he was running across the field diminished, and his pace was reduced to nothing more than a stroll. This was not very good because he was passing by dangerous, unfamiliar territory.
This territory consisted of a murky forest, with gooey mud in almost every step of the path. This forest also had a small green pond of water, with the occasional air bubbles reaching its opaque surface. He realized that he was in a swamp.
He was not as scared of the environment he was in as he was from the sounds which came from it. Low grumbling and harsh, shrill sounds were heard every five minutes. Arthur assumed this could be the dragon, but he told himself that he would have heard Arnold’s brave Tarzan-like roars in the middle of a showdown with Dragona.
As Arthur’s slow pace of walk had propelled him to the other side of the swamp, he realized he had to cross a set of mountains.
“Oh, no! No more walking, please!” sighed Arthur.
Nevertheless, he journeyed around the mountains; he could not cross the mountains because he would have been too cold and he did not feel like hunting down a bear for its fur. In the valley beyond the mountains, he saw a huge frog. He almost ran towards it in sheer curiosity.
“Can you talk?” asked Arthur quizzically.
“If I’m this big, don’t you think I can?” croaked the frog.
“No…but can you tell me your name anyway?” asked Arthur.
“The name is Dragona,” said the frog.
“What do you mean? You don’t look like a dragon,” remarked Arthur rather cautiously.
“No, I’m not and I suppose you are going to ask me if I breathe fire now, are you?” said the annoyed frog.
“No, but go ahead and answer that anyway…” said Arthur.
“Listen, I don’t have dragon scales, I wasn’t born a dragon and I have no dragon wings,” said the now angered Dragona. “Actually, I recently bought a ‘Magic Wings’ lotion to help me grow some. I used it all up in one day and nothing happened. NOTHING! Can you believe the irony? I want to go back for a refund, but I can’t because my legs hurt from having to hop up the mountain to get this…but enough about my personal life. What are you here for?”
“To slay you now if it’s possible. But I can wait until you grow your wings and then I’ll kill you. Is that OK?” asked Arthur sympathetically.
“Sure, once I’m in top form. Thanks so much!” said the frog happily.
Arthur then headed back for King William’s kingdom (he found that if he went east of the valley he would reach the kingdom directly, instead of having to go all the way around the swamp and mountains).
Two summers later, Arthur returned to Dragona’s lair only to find a bunch of feathers and an empty “Magic Wings” bottle.
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