Okay, last time, we saw a dragon wreck Wellington Bones’ Haunted House before stumbling off to the bar. Our hero nervously watches the dragon, hoping it will leave without causing further mayhem.
Barty scratched his bare head, between the short horns and gaped across the street at the destruction one dragon could cause. A wide swath of debris littered the mostly straight line the dragon stumbled to reach the bar. Angry neighbors shook their fists…once out of sight of the dragon.
You never really know when a dragon will turn mean.
Ben sank to the floor. “This is all my fault.” He held his head in his hands.
The cockatrice warbled and nuzzled its head against Ben’s cheek.
“Don’t really matter who’s fault it is.” Crunchy searched the ruined foyer. He lifted the remains of a closet door and found a broom. “Best just continue.” He swept the debris toward the street.
“Continue what?” Ben squeezed his eyes shut. “If the dragons are after my cockatrice, they’ll chase me forever.”
Crunchy shrugged. “Not much to worry about then.” The ancient pirate leaned on the broom handle and grinned at Ben.
Ben frowned and scratched his head.
“You’ll be dead soon.” Barty shook his head and turned from the depressing view.
“Thanks a lot,” Ben muttered.
“Personally, I’m not a betting man, but–”
“You’re not a man at all, imp,” Crunchy interrupted.
Barty glared at him. “But, if I were, I’d place my money on you, kid.” The red-skinned imp winked. “You’re as close to a sure thing as we can get.”
“You think so?” Ben looked up at the imp.
Barty smirked. “I was talking to your pet.”
The cockatrice creeled.
“You both suck.” Ben hugged his knees tight to his chest.
The cockatrice clacked its beak.
Barty raised his hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
Crunchy pushed debris off the sidewalk. “I ain’t seen a cockatrice since my days as a pirate.” He met Ben’s eyes. “A living, breathing pirate.”
Ben rubbed his chin. “Is that good?”
“Like the dragon said, whoever’s side its one has a real advantage in this war.” Crunchy’s peg leg clattered against the concrete street.
“Never seemed like we had a chance before.” Barty’s eyes narrowed as he studied the dragon as it rolled onto its side, collapsed, and began to snore. “Not sure why.”
“Look how big they are!” Ben pointed to the dragon.
“And how drunk,” Barty said.
Ben shook his head. “How would we even kill one?”
Wellington strolled down the smashed staircase, moving as easily over the crumbled stone as he would over a fully functional stairway. “I used to know St. George.”
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
because I’m just not that creative.