Knock, Knock. Any Dragons Home?

When last we left our intrepid hero and his young master, the cockatrice had crawled out of the fly filled barn sated from his afternoon meal (lunch, dinner…whatever) and Ben had carried him back into the house.

Sirens blared.

Ben pressed his nose against the window.  A police cruiser raced down the street.  He twisted to the right to guess the intended target.  Nothing smoked in the distance.  No dragon winged nearby.  Ben frowned.

The police car turned toward Ben’s house and drove up the driveway.  It parked and the officer stepped outside, onto the grass.

Ben grimaced.  “Why’re they back?”  He stumbled down the stairs.

The doorbell rang.

Ben reached the door almost as soon as the bell rang.  He opened the door.  “Officer?”

The police officer peered inside.  “Are your parents home?”

Ben shrugged.  “They’re out back, assessing the damage.”

“From the dragon earlier.”  The cop nodded.  “We received an anonymous tip of another sighting.”


The officer smiled and tucked his cap beneath his arm.  “May I come inside?”

Ben stepped onto the porch.  “Let me take you to my parents.”  He led the way around the house into the backyard.

His mother and father contemplated the large gouge in the field from the dragon’s crash.  They looked up at Ben’s approach.

His father stepped forward and greeted the officer.  “What seems to be the problem?”

“We’re investigating a local tip.”  The officer studied the landing site.  “You haven’t seen any other dragons around, have you?”

Ben’s father shook his head.  “I’ve been away at market most of the day.  I missed all the excitement.”

Ben’s mother chewed her lip.  “Your team carted off the big one.”

The officer nodded.  “There was a call, from this address…”

Ben’s parents looked at each other.  “Nate.”

Ben groaned.

“Problem?” the officer asked.

Ben quickly shook his head.

His father rested his hands on Ben’s shoulders.  “Ben, is this a prank?”

Ben gulped.

His mother smiled at the officer.  “Sibling rivalry.”

The officer scowled.  “Phony tips aren’t funny.”  He glanced at the barn.  “Mind if I take a look around?”

Ben’s father gestured toward the barn with his hand.  “Follow me.”  He led the officer on a tour of the yard.

Ben’s mother caught him in her arms as he tried to leave.  “You didn’t get rid of that last egg, did you?”

Ben ran a hand through his dark hair.

“You’re lucky they didn’t bring the dogs.  Dragons leave a terrible stench.”

Ben kicked a dirt piled above the rut.  “This would keep them away.”

“Until they searched the house.  No dragons in there, I hope.”

Ben paled.

So, what do you think will happen?  What do you want to happen?  Was it too short?  Too long?  Too unfunny?

Yep, that’s right.  I’m soliciting comments and suggestions.  I may even use them.  No matter how wacky, zany, nerdy, or weird.  No matter how serious, fanciful, or sci-fi.  It’s a choose your own adventure.  You choose what happens next.


About bkreuch

I like to read, I like to write, and I like to make people laugh.
This entry was posted in Ben's Hen, Humor, Writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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