“Why can’t you kill it?”
“You spawned it, it’s your responsibility. Besides, I’ve got to deal with the mess that drunk dragon left behind.”
“Responsibility, what’s that?” David muttered.
His mother left the room.
“Drunk dragons suck!” he yelled into the hallway. He grimaced down at the newly hatched cockatrice. “You sure came quick.” Though, if he were honest with himself, David would realize he had no idea how long it took for a mythological creature to gestate.