Title: The Sue Booster
Co-authors and/or betas: None
Genre/s: Parody, Humour
Summary: Vengeful draco-slugs, pretty lights, a draconee-yum bar cake, random moments…it all adds up to a parody!
Main character/s: Penn Racing, Moordryd, Beau, the usual…
Pairings: None
Rating: Same as the show. PG
Warnings: None
Word Count: 21, 261
No. of Chapters: 2
Complete/WiP: WiP
Concrit: Encouraged
Mary Sue: No
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Booster. And if J’Rin Tekaar hadn’t typed out the transcript, I’d be lost as to who said what, who did what, what happened…you get the idea.
A/N: A parody, so I hope you laugh at least once. I may do a parody of the next chapter as well, I haven’t decided yet. Depends on whether I’m actually good at writing parodies. :P
A Parody of the Choosing Part 1
In Dragon City, there stands a great citadel. Menacing in its appearance, it frightens away most visitors, leaving it’s occupants free from door to door salesmen. Its many pointed spires arch towards the sky above. Within the sinister structure, stands Word Paynn. Standing at rapt attention not too far from him, is his son, Moordryd Paynn. Moordryd is poised with a fuzzy pen and notepad, ready to instantly take down any instructions or facts his father happens to offhandedly refers to in his various ramblings which doesn’t always have anything to do with what they were talking about.
Meanwhile, his busy bee father fiddles with a hunk of junk…er, his latest invention he had put together last night in his sleep. Which proved to be rather difficult, even for him.
Word straightened as he quickly and nimbly finished his fiddling. He put down his fiddle and turned to his son. Moordryd frowned when he realized music time was over. “Now my son. Here.” Word moved over to a wall in his citadel, where a most curious contraption was set up.
“Now what is that?” Moordryd asked, flipping his stupendous hair.
“This, oh. I found it in my attic.”
“We have an attic?”
“I do. You don’t,” Word said, patting the contraption with affection. “This is a film projector.” Word smiled, apparently pleased at his chance discovery.
“Isn’t that…old?” Moordryd disproved of the rusty machine.
“Yes it is,” Word stated, “but it will do for my purpose. I have a movie to show you.”
“On that thing? Why not use your VIDDscreens?”
“Because, I found a movie along with it. Isn’t it fetching?” Word giggled as he held up the old roll of film. It looked dusty, broken, disgusting and smelled even worse. “I find old things interesting. It’s like an antique.”
“So are you.” Moordryd mumbled into his notepad where he had started to doodle. Word, in his old age, didn’t hear his son. He put the film into the device. It projected an image onto the citadel wall. Word stood at immediate attention, and Moordryd followed suite, poised once again with his pink fuzzy pen.
A large number three appeared, signaling a countdown, like in all old movies. Soon the two and one passed, and Word began narrating. The movie showed carved images showing distant events of the past.
“Three thousand, two hundred and eleven years ago, a great dragon-human war threatened to rip apart the planet.” Word said in a bleak voice as more images showed up. “Indeed, everything was in utter chaos. All the people lived in fear, every store had closed, and yes, even Dragbucks. No one was able to get their coffee. The world was at the end of hope. WHICH WAS VERY BAD!” Word overstated and turned back toward Moordryd to make sure he got the point.
“No coffee, very bad,” Moordryd said as he wrote in his notepad.
“But a single golden dragon, the last of its kind, chose a human to be his hero-a Sue Booster. This Sue Booster and the last dragon released the full power of the sue…and stopped the fight by turning all dragons back to gold!” Now, as Word said the last words, a truly superb image appeared on the wall. Even Moordryd could see the perfect proportions, gleaming suit, brave pose and cheesy smile-all indicating only one thing, the Sue Booster!
“So pretty…” Moordryd gawked in awe.
“The Sue Boos….oh fudge!” Word moaned as the old film burst into flames, completely ruining the presentation.
“Is that it?” Moordryd questioned as his father tried to blow into the fire and put it out. Sadly, he only succeeded in fanning the flames.
“No, it was going to say a lot more about the ancient history and Dragbucks…but I guess you’ll have to live without that knowledge,” Word mumbled as he coughed on the smoke and flapped his hands in front of his face. “At any rate…*cough*…I have learned…*cough*…that that ancient old…*hack*…gold-boned dragon has been bred back into existence.”
“Oh really?” Moordryd asked, impressed. “This is great! Did the breeder win an award? Surely he must….”
“No!” Word yelled. “This isn’t good! This stupid dragon will interrupt my plans!”
“Oh, of course,” Moordryd replied.
“My dear old friend, Connor Penn, has done it,” Word snarled. “He’s holding ‘secret’ auditions for riders. Fortunately I know everything and learned of this. I want you to disguise yourself as an elite-class racer, and infli…inful…infiltra…be very sneaky and slip into his racing stable, unnoticed. Then you shall take the gold dragon.”
“Don’t tell me how to steal dragons, father. My down city crew buddies and I have been stealing them for you for about…three months now.” Moordryd said as he counted on his fingers and held up two.
Word, the old twit, began to grow angry. “This gold dragon must not choose a Sue Booster! That dragon is the only thing that can stop me. I will start a new dragon-human war, close all the Dragbucks and start my own chain of coffee shops. And when the war ends, the people will have only one place to go for coffee. I will rule the world!” Moordryd grew slightly frightened at his father’s outburst. But nothing scared him more than the ominous music that then echoed throughout the citadel. Word shrieked. Apparently it had startled him as well.
*
Unaware of the impending war and amazing action sequences, Dragon City continued on it’s daily routine. The faint hint of light could be visible in the upper sections of Mid City. Thousands of citizens went about on their daily business. Being a very populated city, it came as no surprise when traffic jams halted the traffic.
“Traffic is snarled at Dragway 1138,” came a newscasters voice, “I dunno if it’s the heat or the beans, but phew! Those dragons are acting crazy and stinking up the track! And now the street racing news…Kitt Wonn is still the point leader, she’s blowin’ away the competition in the last three races, completely ruining their hair….”
And, unbeknownst to many, sitting in a corner of Penn Stables, is Artha Penn, son of Connor Penn, son of who knows what. Slacking off and playing a VIDDgame, Artha cheers for himself as he completes a move in the game, “Heeehawww!”
“D’oh!” Muttered his friend Parm, who was playing from a different location.
“You’re just mad ‘cause I’m winning,” Artha stated.
“Nevertheless, you’re virtually two hundred thousand points in the lead.” Parm whined. “You always beat me at every game we play.”
“It’s just about picking the right colours, Parmon.” Artha said, engrossed in the game. They were playing Beauty Dragons. A VIDDgame intended for young girls, but had somehow managed to find its way into the palms of Artha Penn. Artha and Parm both glittered up their pretty dragons, brushed their virtual scales, polished and painted their claws and sent them down the runway.
“I gone and won again!” Artha smiled.
“Ah, scales,” exclaimed Parmon. “I got sixth position. Again.”
“You can’t expect to win with your stupid purple dragon.”
“Well, what in the Magna Draconis makes your dragon better than mine?”
“For one thing, I don’t have no tassels on the saddle bars. And the claws aren’t yellow.”
“What’s wrong with yellow?”
“Everyone knows yellow is soooo last year.”
“Really? I thought that was pink.”
“No, pink is the in thing. That and silver sparkles. See, I’ve got glitter on my drago…..Beau!” Artha all but yelled as the majestic black and gold dragon walked up. Quicker than a flash of pretty light, he switched out of Beauty Dragons and Dragon Racing appeared on the VIDDscreen. “See Beau,” Artha gave him a cheesy smile and chuckled, “I was just racing with Parm.”
“Oh, right,” Parm said, and soon he had switched games as well and was competing against Artha. Beau rolled his eyes and walked away.
“Phew. Alright, Parm. Beau’s gone.” Artha breathed in a sigh of relief.
“Oh, that’s okay, we’ll play Dragon Racing now.”
“You jus’ don’t wanna lose to me in Beauty Dragons again,” Artha snickered.
“No….I just….your…er…your Dad would want you playing Dragon Racing instead. You know, for when you’ll race. Me, being a good friend, I’ll play with you to help you train….”
“Parm! I’m not going to race!” Artha said as he raced.
“Why not?” Parm questioned. “Look, look at that! You just pulled an insane move! You’re ahead of everyone now.”
“So what? So what if I’m really, really good at everything I do, especially dragon racing? Let’s just design our new Beauty Dragons VIDDgame, Parm. That’s our ticket to a bit of fame and reasonable amount of fortune.”
“But doesn’t your Dad bug you about going to the Racing Academy?”
“All the time! Plus, he’s hired all his dragons to spy on me!”
“No!”
“Yes! They watch me every single moment of every single day!” Artha tossed his head around for emphasis as he whined, nearly dislodging his precious head in the act. Just then, Beau snuck up behind Artha, and thrust his devastatingly handsome face in front of Artha’s VIDDgame. “See what I mean! Beau! I’m busy!”
Unfortunately, Beau’s rather enormous chin pushed one of the buttons, and the Beauty Dragons VIDDgame replaced Dragon Racing. Beau gaped at the screen, then at Artha, his mouth hanging open in astonishment.
“Argh!” Artha moaned and tried to turn off the screen. Beau chuckled, and in doing so, knocked the VIDDgame out of Artha’s hands with his chin. The game flew and crash landed near Beau’s foot. Beau looked at Artha, pointed his front paw at him and laughed. Then he went to inspect the VIDDgame closer.
No! Artha thought. He’s going to show it to Lance! I have to do something! Artha, thinking quickly decided to…. After thinking for a bit longer, Artha finally came up with a great plan.
“Beau! Don’t look now, but there’s a fire! Right behind you!” Artha shouted. Beau looked at him, alarmed. “In fact, the VIDDgame is on fire!” Beau gasped in absolute horror and looked at the VIDDgame near his feet. “DO something! It could burn out of control and destroy everything!” Beau, being the brave dragon he was, jumped on the game in hopes of putting it out. After jumping on it several times, Beau stopped. “No! Don’t stop now! Look! It’s still alive!” Beau then mag-blasted the VIDDgame.
Artha giggled. Where the game had once been, there was now a smoking crater. “Good, it’s dead now.” Beau glowered at Artha, then stalked away, completely miffed out of his mind. Artha snickered. “Dumb dragon.”
*
Later, Artha Penn was walking around Penn Stables for some odd reason. As he was walking innocently along, he was roughly pushed aside by….
“Out of my way, stable boy!”
“Stable boy?”
“Yes, stable boy.”
“Did you just call me stable boy?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh…yeah.”
“You’re not tryign to scrape my scales,a re ya?”
“Your spelling sucks.”
“What?!?!?” Artha fumed at the other boy, who looked on in reasonable amazement at Artha’s ability to include three question marks and two exclamation points at the end of his sentence.
“Oh, would you like me to call you something else?”
Artha considered the pale boy’s offer. “Actually, that would be nice.”
“Okay…stable brat. Hey, that’s good, isn’t it?”
“My name is not stable anything. I’m Artha Penn. Of Penn Stables.”
“Where in the Magna Draconis is that?” The white-haired kid asked. Artha pointed at the large sign sitting atop the building. “Oh. Well, at least I know where it is now.” The grey-eyed boy looked around and started to mumble to himself, “so if I come back here later tonight, I can use my new super stick and steal the Dragon of Le….” The boy abruptly stopped as he realized Artha was staring at him. “I mean, I can come…back…later, then I can use my new…soup stick and stew the dra….” He trailed off as he realized he wasn’t making things any better.
“Who are you?” Artha had to question.
“I’m Moordryd Paynn, and I steal…er…race dragons.” Moordryd said. “What do you do?”
“I clean up after them,” Artha stated blandly.
Moordryd snickered. “So you really are a stable brat.” Artha frowned at Moordryd’s back as he turned and walked away laughing. Then, as Artha himself was about to turn and leave, he noticed something on the ground. With his head still full of mounting anger and fury, he picked up the brown glop. Then flung it at Moordryd’s oh so pretty head.
Unfortunately, it flew past him and landed harmlessly on a helpless draco-slug. Artha had made a big mistake, for this was no ordinary slug. This was Slugy, the prince of the Slime Nation of slugs. He squealed in unprecedented fury and shook his tail at Artha, then wandered away, still squeaking as only a slug could, prepared to find his father, King Mr. Slug, and have him wage war on all humans. Oblivious to all this, Moordryd wheeled about on his hind foot and stalked back. “What was that?” He demanded.
“Cake.”
Moordryd eyed Artha suspiciously. “Cake?”
“Draconee-yum bar cake.” Artha replied. Moordryd’s eyes burned with hot, smoldering, escalating, intense and fiery anger, and Artha was doing his best to avoid trouble. “I dropped it this morning and haven’t cleaned it up yet.”
And it was true, for the brown pile was nothing more than a reminiscent of a past draconee-yum bar cake. One that should have been photographed and awarded many a prizes and cute ribbons…never mind. But it had been one heck of a cake.
Moordryd stared at Artha like he was crazy. Artha paused in licking his hand off and noticed Moordryd’s crazy stare. “What?”
Moordryd quickly regained control of himself and his mad glare. “You…I thought you threw….”
“Oh, no. That would be plain disgusting.” Artha finally finished licking his hand, then wiped it onto his shirt. “Cakeisfood.”
“Duh.”
“Sorrey.I meat cake is goode.”
Moordryd gritted his teeth. “Nothing irritates me more than bad spelling and grammar.” He took a threatening step towards Artha, glaring as best he could. Artha took one look at his cold, penetrating eyes, then abruptly dropped into a fetal position.
Moordryd stood over him. “Tcha! You’re not worth the trouble.” With one last glare, he left, and Artha crawled around and eventually found his way into the house.
*
After Artha found his way out of the house, he saw his younger brother sweeping the ground. He skipped up to him and said, “hey, missed a spot.”
Lance, for that was his name, looked up at him. “Really where? I can’t sweep anymore. I’ve been doing this all morning while you were cleaning up the cake…,”
“Yes I was,” Artha stated blandly and started to whistle as he looked anywhere but Lance.
Meanwhile Lance had still been talking, his eyes beginning to tear. “….tripping me wasn’t funny! You got to clean cake and I have to clean….”
Artha stared off into space while his younger brother yakked. He began thinking. Lance sure talks a lot. Like….
“…fell and got all dirty. Then I couldn’t get washed up cause I still had to clean the stables….”
…like a person who talks too much. Artha finished and swelled with pride at the simile he managed to think up.
“…stop Beau from doing all this. I mean, for a Dragon of Legend, he sure makes legendary….”
Artha soon had a brilliantly brilliant idea. Rainbow colored claws!
“…but I did manage to wash the floors and clean the fireplace….”
I can…Parm can code that into our Beauty Dragons VIDDgame! Rainbow colored claws, it’ll make us rich! Artha squealed inside.
“…then I fed the chickens, watered the plants, washed the windows and made dinner.” Lance took a deep breath, and turned to his brother, tears welling up in his eyes. “I was just wondering…could you do at least not do what you did last week? I’ve done….”
Lance trailed off as he realized Artha wasn’t listening. Artha was holding his hands over his mouth, trying very hard not to burst out squealing with happiness. He was going to get so rich!
Lance cleared his throat. Artha looked down at him and put his hands down near his side, but not before a squeak of excitement penetrated his lips. “SQUEAK! Oh, uh. Drac job with the sweeping with that…thing.”
“It’s called a broom!” Lance protested and held up the broom.
“Of course it is,” Artha said affectionately as he gave Lance a noogie. “You just keep telling yourself that.” Lance sighed irritably.
“AHEM!” Came a sudden loud noise. Artha and Lance both glanced up quickly at the newcomer.
“Dad! I was…was…just…I know,” Artha sighed, “don’t bother Lance when he’s working.”
“Right,” Connor Penn said, “around here we….”
“…don’t bother Lance when he’s working. I know, Dad.” Artha sighed again.
“That’s right,” Lance said, “you just mess everything up and then I have to do it all over again.”
“Exactly, we don’t want a repeat of last week, do we?” Connor inquired, lifting one eyebrow.
“No we do not,” Artha said, thinking back to last week.
Lance sure didn’t want a repeat. “I sure don’t want a repeat,” he said. “The gunk is still stuck on the kitchen ceiling.”
All three of them chuckled weakly before trailing off. Then they stood there. Artha coughed. The silence continued. Far off, in another part of the city, someone else coughed as well.
“Artha,” Connor said after a while, “you’re sixteen.”
“Oh,” Artha said.
“You’re also imperceptive,” Lance muttered as he continued sweeping.
Well,” Artha huffed, “I may be immproceptife…but at least I’m not stupid!”
“My point exactly.”
“You have no points!”
“Do too.”
“Do not.”
“Prove it.”
“….”
“All right boys.” Connor said while Artha was just about to prove how Lance never had any points or purposes or the like. Lance stuck out his tongue at Artha and continued to sweep. Artha stuck his tongue out at him as well. “Artha,” Connor said, and Artha looked at him with his tongue still hanging out.
“Wha tho you wan nou?”
Connor sighed. “Beau is sixteen as well.”
“I no. Tho?”
“Sixteen year olds are known for doing great things. Or so I’ve heard.”
“Grea fo them.”
“Sixteen year olds are also allowed racing….and doing great things.”
“Oh.”
“You’re sixteen.”
“Tho I am.”
“So is Beau.”
“I thuppose tho.”
“You, the dragon, great things.”
“An yur poin ith?”
Connor sighed, then said irritably, “look, will you put your tongue back in your mouth? Thank you.”
Artha sulked, then immediately brightened. “Oh! Oh?!? You’re just implying that you want me to race and do satisfactory things?”
“Great things,” Connor corrected him.
“Yeah, but…but….” Artha glanced around, then snapped the broom out of Lance’s hands. “Only I’m the one with…this thing.”
“Great things are in store for all of you,” Connor said, “I should know. I raised you all from dorks!” Then he chuckled and strode away.
Artha looked at Lance and handed him the broom back, “and I helped raise you from a baby!”
“Well, duh.”
*
Later, Connor held his ‘secret’ racing auditions, and all the racers he invited gathered at the stables. Lance and Artha were busy scuttling about trying to keep the tables full of juice and cubes of cheese with those cute little toothpicks in them. While everyone except them were happily snacking, Connor addressed the crowd.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to…er, I mean, thanks for coming!” Connor cleared his throat, motioned to Lance to bring him some more juice and continued. “You are the best and prettiest street and elite racers in the city. For today, anyway. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?” Connor chuckled. The racers looked at each other, uncertain.
“Anywho,” Connor continued, “I want you all to meet…,” Connor motioned to Artha, who instantly hit the lights. Connor took a swig of the juice Lance handed to him, then said in an announcer like tone as brightly colored lights flashed everywhere and music began to play.
“The one.” The racers looked around, startled. Ahead of them, a stable door began to open.
“The only.” The door creaked open and a swirl of fog curled out, bathing the area.
“Beau!” Connor finished dramatically as the door opened fully. The music increased to a pompous state and the lights centered on the emerging dragon.
“I believe,” Connor said as he stepped between Beau and the racers, while Beau stretched and posed. “I believe that Beau here,” Connor said, gesturing to Beau as the dragon craned his neck and flashed a mighty grin, “will be the most powerful dragon on the planet!” All female dragons in a one mile radius suddenly fainted in awe of his uber cool destiny.
“Even more powerful than the energizer dragon in all those battery commercials?” One racer questioned.
Connor looked them all in the eye. Dead silence followed. “Yes.” The racers gasped.
Moordryd eyed the dragon and thought to himself, The Black, Gold and Sparkly Dragon of Legend! Wait…what?
For as Moordryd was thinking those very words you should have just read, shiny sparkles fell from the nearby stable rooftop and landed all around them, coating them all. Artha nudged Lance, grinning. That had been his idea.
Soon, the music died down, the lights turned off, and everyone shook the eye-catching glitter off of themselves. “Say, Connor,” one racer said, “what is that?” And he pointed to Beau, who had gear magged onto himself. “Level six-hundred white aero gear, nine-hundred blue balance and…a million red speed burst?”
Connor puffed out his chest. He was apparently proud of his dragon. “Beau can magnetize and use all gear types and levels!”
The racers stared at the gear, where the numbers were beginning to drip. “Aren’t those levels painted on?”
“Uh, no they aren’t. Don’t be silly,” Connor said with a flip of his hand. He looked back to Beau while trying to make it look like he really wasn’t. “*Cough*mag off gear. *cough*” Beau stared at Connor. “*cough* mag *cough* off the *cough* gear. *cough*”
Beau stared at him incredulously.
“*Cough, hack* MAG *cough, cough* OFF *cough* THE *hack* GEAR! *cough*”
Beau made an ‘o’ with his lips as he understood. He flashed a smile at the crowd and quickly magged the gear into the nearest stable, breaking half the things in there.
Connor turned back to the racers. “What were you saying?” He asked the first. That particular racer said nothing in return. “Well then,” Connor said, “let’s see if any of you can take Beau for a spin.” Connor glanced at the racers, who just happened to be conveniently standing quite orderly in a neat row.
“Ah, you there!” He called to one. Moordryd tried to hide, fearing his cover might be blown. Connor came to stand in front of him. “How would you like to go first?”
“Me?” Moordryd asked, surprised at his luck.
“Yes, come now, don’t be shy,” Connor encouraged him. Moordryd gave him a false, half smile and stepped forward.
Beau, realizing that the choosing process was about to commence, pranced quite nicely to the middle of the stables. Lance and Artha both pushed a creatively decorated step ladder close to Beau. They then, with magnificent hand gestures, and acting like any showgirl, they displayed the dragon and step ladder. Moordryd started walking.
Connor walked beside him. “Do I know you? You look very familiar.”
“Well, er, I race dragons. You might’ve seen me then.” Moordryd offered.
Connor rubbed his chin, “perhaps. But you look like someone I know. Someone with white hair, unibrow, pale skin, grey eyes….”
“Well,” Moordryd said nervously, “that could be anybody.”
“I suppose you’re right. Well, climb on up,” Connor said as they reached the step ladder. Artha and Lance gave dramatic flourishes with their hands. Moordryd was just about to grab the railing on the ladder, but noticed a draco-slug on it. Slugy had wandered on the step ladder railing, thinking it was an easier way to the Slime Nation.
Shrieking, Moordryd leapt back. Connor’s memory finally worked. “Say, you remind me of my old friend, Word Paynn, when you shriek like that.”
“Do I?” Moordryd asked, rubbing his hand. That thing had almost touched him!
“Yes,” Connor said. “WAITAMINUTE!” Everyone jumped. Artha fell. “You’re Word Paynn’s son, aren’t you?”
“Ummm……………………………….................................................…no I’m not?”
“Yes you are. You can’t fool these hawk like eyes of mine,” Connor pointed to his eyes and accidentally poked himself.
“Well, what are you going to do about it, old man?” Moordryd said insolently.
Connor rubbed his eye, “depart now, insolent fool. Before I employ force on thou.” Perhaps, just perhaps, Connor might have made a better impression on the young Paynn had he not been rubbing his eye, covered in glitter and smelling of juice.
However, Connor was lucky, for Moordryd realized it would be easier to steal the dragon if he came later that night. Moordryd seized a swanky pair of sunglasses from his jacket and put them on. “I’ll be back,” he said notably as he strode away. All females in a one mile radius suddenly fainted from his dashing looks.
Conno shook his head and thought to himself, so, Word, my old friend. You know about Beau.
And to his distinguished guests who were amusing themselves with chugging down the juice, Connor said, “excuse me.” He grabbed Artha’s arm and pulled him to where they could talk in private. “Artha,” he said solemnly, “it’s time you know.”
“What? You’re not my real father? Why didn’t you tell me!”
“No, I’m your real father. I wanted to tell you something else.”
“Lance is adopted?”
“…no.”
Artha gasped. “You’re adopted!”
“Kinda, but….”
“You’re losing your hair?”
“Of course not!” Connor replied angrily and combed a hand through his incredibly thick, wavy locks.
“I’m losing my hair?!”
“NO!” Connor nearly shouted. “I have something to show you.”
“What?” Artha asked, looking around.
Connor reached into his pocket. “This.” And lo! out came a star shaped amulet.
“This is something I had since I was sixteen years old, just like you,” Connor said. “It was given to me by a secret order of Dragon Priests. They warned me of an ancient legend….”
This is a Drac Flashback
In a cave because housing costs had skyrocketed, there was a Dragon Priest. He had called young Conner Penn before him to tell him a legend.
“A terrible war is coming,” he began gravely.
“Scales,” young Connor mumbled.
“A war between dragons and humans! Only the return of the Black and Gold Dragon of Legend can stop this.”
“But isn’t that dragon dead?” Connor asked.
“Yes.”
“Then how can he return?”
“Through selective breeding.”
“What’s breeding?”
The Priest shifted uneasily and ignored him. “He can only save the planet if he chooses a true human hero with incredible sueish tendencies who can release his secret powers.”
“Is that me?”
“No. Now be quiet. This human will be….”
This Has Been a Drac Flashback
“…a Sue Booster.” Connor finished.
“A Sue Booster?” Artha asked.
“A Sue Booster,” Connor said.
“A Sue Booster?” Artha asked just one more time, to make sure he heard right.
“A Sue Booster,” Connor said.
“A Sue Booster,” Artha mused.
“That’s right, a Sue Booster,” Connor said.
“Oh, a Sue Booster,” Artha said.
“Darn tootin’,” Connor said.
“But,” Artha said, “why give this to me?”
“I’m giving this to you in case something happens.”
“Why, what’s going to happen?” Artha asked worriedly as he took the amulet.
“I don’t know. But just to be on the safe side, I’m giving this to you.”
“But what if I lose it?” Artha protested.
“You won’t. But when Beau chooses a Sue Booster, the very same star mark will appear on his head. Then give this amulet to that person.” Connor said. “That person, whosoever he or she may be, will be the Sue Booster.”
“I must go now,” Connor said, looking back to the racers, “Beau is in a drinking contest with the racers and we don’t want anything to happen!” He rushed off, leaving Artha to dwell upon everything he had said. Nearly a whole second later, Artha followed him, hoping to get some cheese before it was all gone.
*
It was a bit later, after all the juice had run out, that the riding auditions actually began. Beau stood patiently and a rider stepped up to try his luck. He started to mount the step ladder.
“Mags all gear, huh? Yeah right, let’s see what this dragon can do!” The racer settled onto the saddle and grabbed the handlebars, ready to go. Beau paused, is if thinking very, very hard.
“Hmmmmmmm…” Beau mused, then magged the rider off.
“What the….” He slammed hard onto the ground, just missing a comfortable patch of dirt. Beau snorted. That was not the one. He was much too big and heavy.
“Well,” said another racer, rubbing his hands together, “my turn then.” But alas, he was soon magged off as well. Beau glared at the next racer to approach him. That last one had been too small and light.
After a few seconds of intricate thinking which involved screwing his face up in various thinking expressions, and after the rider worried the dragon he was sitting on might have gas, Beau magged off this one as well. He smelt funny.
The next racer was too loud, the next had a horrible laugh, and the next had a horrible outfit on. Beau didn’t even waste time on the last one to mount him, he threw him off before he touched the saddle. That guy’s haircut was simply awful!
Connor sighed. “Looks like Beau won’t choose anyone today,” Lance remarked.
“I thought these were the prettiest racers in the city.” Artha said as they all watched the riders limp away.
Connor rubbed his head. “I thought so too. Is there anyone left?” The racers looked at each other, and instantly pointed to the one standing next to them.
Suddenly, everyone turned as heavy, pounding feet of a running dragon was heard. “Look out!” Came the frantic voice of the worried rider on the approaching red dragon. Everyone leaped out of the way as the dragon skidded to a stop, barely stopping in time to avoid hitting the snack table. “Sorry,” the girl atop the dragon said, “my thrusters were on too high, and there’s juice all over the ground, for some odd reason.”
She sprang lightly from the saddle, and walked over to the others. “Well, you can all go over there, or wherever else you want if you have some other place to be.”
“Oh great,” one racer said, “Kitt Wonn.”
The racer standing next to him scoffed. “She thinks she’s the prettiest dragon racer anywhere.”
“I beat most of you in the beauty pageant last week, didn’t I?” Kitt said as she walked past. The two racers fell silent, remembering their horrible placing in the same competition.
“Now, watch and learn,” Kitt said and hopped onto Beau’s back. The racers gasped; she hadn’t used the step ladder. Artha was slightly offended.
Captain Obvious stepped forward in amazement. “She’s on!”
Beau looked at Kitt as she sat on him in complete confidence. He thought for a moment, prepared to accept her as the Dragon Booster. Then he started to giggle, and did his best not to burst out laughing.
Slugy was crawling on Beau’s back, as he finally made it on. He stopped and looked around, realizing this was not the way back home. He crawled around in a circle, completely annoyed at himself.
Beau clamped his mouth shut, trying not to snigger, chuckle, titter, chortle, laugh or giggle. Unfortunately, he guffawed. Slugy was tickling him so much! Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He magged off both Slugy and Kitt and scratched his back with his tail and chin.
Slugy flew through the air with the greatest of ease. Artha noticed the slug coming towards him, gasped in horror, and side stepped, directly into the path of the amazing flying Kitt. He held out his arms and caught her gently, then snapped a cheesy smile, which in some cases, can also pass for a heroic smile.
“She’s not on anymore!” Captain Obvious gasped.
“Why, stable-boy, you ca….ouf!” She cried out as Artha dropped her. She rubbed her butt and glared at him from the ground. “What did you do that for?”
Artha giggled. “There’s a draco-slug on my leg!”
Indeed, it was Slugy, who had found the human who had so rudely covered him in draconee-yum bar cake. Extracting his sweet revenge, he wormed his way up Artha’s pants, and attacked with considerable force for a draco-slug. Artha laughed even harder. “Get it off!” He was barely able to say.
Kitt stared at him incredulously. Artha started to hop around on one foot, shaking his other leg. Meanwhile, Lance had just come out of the house with a whole new pitcher of juice, and noticed Artha.
“What, is there a dancing competition or something?”
Just then, Artha shook his leg mightily, and Slugy flew out of his pant leg. He skidded across the ground and came to rest in a pile of…dragon business. Slugy then swore such a stream of negative and offending words that the atmosphere around him began to smolder.
Artha scratched his leg, and finally his laughter trailed off. He looked around. “So uh…*cough*…who’s next?”
Kitt put her hands on her hips and smirked. “Why don’t you try?”
Artha looked around, then hesitantly pointed to himself. Kitt nodded.
“Here,” Connor said, stepping up to Artha, “you’ll need my old racing jacket.” Connor proudly held up his old racing jacket. It was multi-colored, torn, rusted, faded and smelled disgusting.
“Uh, I think I’ll just use the one you bought for me last week,” Artha said, loathing to touch it.
Connor sighed. “Okay. It’s just as well. You might get it dirty or something.”
Artha sighed in relief, then noticed his father stare at him. “I mean, er, o, what a pity!”
Connor nodded, completely fooled by Artha’s revised statement and started to brush some dust off his old racing jacket. Artha put on his own racing jacket, and then approached Beau. Then Connor gave Artha some last minute, but vital, instructions and encouragement.
“Remember, listen. The dragon is just like the sue inside of you. Relax! But not too much. Open your mind - if possible - and your heart and release that power - release the sue!” Artha nodded, then walked to Beau as the other racers started taking bets on whether he could stay on while Lance collected the drakkals.
“Tee, hee,” Artha giggled sheepishly as he looked up at Beau. “You know I didn’t mean to call you a dumb dragon before, right? Right? Right? Right? Right?” Beau rolled his eyes.
“Here we go. Nice dragon, good dragon, pretty dragon, drac dragon, oh, stinky dragon!” Beau rolled his eyes again. He did not stink.
The racers looked on in amusement, especially Kitt. Connor gasped in delight at a colorful advertisement flickering across the street.
“Easy boy, good boy. Who’s a good dragon? Who’s a good dragy wagy? You are! Yes, you are!” Artha coaxed Beau, and put one foot on his back. “Big dragy wagy. My footie wootie is on your backie wackie. You’re not going to magy wagy me awayie wawayaie, are you?” Artha asked, having trouble with the last part. Beau rolled his eyes again and magged him off without further hesitation.
Artha flew through the air with greater ease then Slugy ever could, and he was headed directly for Kitt. Kitt smirked as she saw him approaching and side stepped. Artha fell on the ground, and Connor was relieved that he wasn’t wearing his old racing jacket.
“Y’see?” Artha yelled. “This is why I don’t like dragons!” He got up and, ignoring everyone’s laughs, headed to the house.
“Artha, wait,” Connor called after him. “Could you bring some more cheese out?”
*
That night, after the riding auditions and late night party the racers threw, Beau was finally settled on his amazing pedestal in his stable, sound asleep. He snored loudly and peacefully, dreaming of sparkly glitter, energetic music and oddly enough, flying draco-slugs.
Suddenly, a noise from outside caused him to awaken. Beau yawned and heard it again, instantly jolting him wide awake.
From outside he heard someone trip over a garbage, swear blatantly at it, yell in pain as they stubbed their toe, hopped around, and then hum the Mission Impossible theme song as they snuck along the stable. Beau saw a shadow stretch as the intruder came closer, and soon he stood in the entrance after a superb duck and roll combo.
He wore a helmet which completely hid his identity. He straightened, and walked inside. Beau growled softly. “Oh, do not be alarmed,” the intruder said. “I’m from Dragon Daily, the leading magazine in celebrity news, both human and dragon. Where news is, Dragon Daily isn’t far behind.”
Beau was flattered. “Now smile for the camera, for you, my friend, are going to be on the cover.” Beau gaped. He loved Dragon Daily! He only read it like, every day! And to think, he was going to be on the cover!
The Dragon Daily man pulled out a camera, and put it to his face, finger poised above the button. “Smile!” He said, and took a picture. Beau managed to smile cheesily as he took the picture. “You can do better than that! Come on, show me the love!”
The Dragon Daily man took more pictures, and for each one, Beau posed: laying on the ground, standing on his pedestal, flexing, and various other poses. And with each picture, the Dragon Daily man came closer. Nearing the end of the pictures, Beau was becoming restless as the growing horror music was beginning to get to him.
Soon, the Dragon Dail…the DD man was right next to him. He looked up to Beau, and said. “Okay, time for one last shot…er, picture…ahem…now stand just like that…yes…yes, good.” The DD man raised the camera to his face. “Ready?” Beau nodded enthusiastically from his current position, where he was standing on his hind legs, gripping a blocking staff in his tail, the butt (stop snickering) planted firmly in the ground as he held it like the sword of a conquering hero.
“Great!” The DD man said, and prepared to take the picture. “Now smile…more…more…more…more…more…more…more…more…just a little more…more…more…more…more…too much…good…” Beau thought his mouth was about to break, but if it was for the Dragon Daily….
“Sucker!” The DD man said, then dropped his camera. Beau gasped. That had looked like a very expensive camera, what a fool. But then, the DD man pulled out… O horror of horrors! It was a stick! Beau squealed, dropped the blocking staff and backed up until he hit the wall. The stick looked menacing in the faint light. All this had been a trick!
“Halt, who goes there?”
Beau sighed in relief as he heard the familiar voice. The DD man glanced worriedly at the opening. “Uh…er, no one.”
“Oh, okay.” Beau heard Connor say and he started to leave before he even reached the stables. Beau whined as the DD man walked even closer, holding the deadly stick.
But as Connor was walking back to the house, something struck his mind. And it wasn’t the bug that just flew in his ear. He turned around and walked back to the stable, pondering. “But if no one is there, who just said…gasp!” Connor gasped as he reached the open stable door and saw Beau crouched against the far wall. “A stick!” Connor nearly cried aloud in dismay as he saw what the mysterious man held in his hand.
“Stay out of this, old man!” The mysterious figure said.
Connor peered at him through the darkness. “You wear the same racing suit and helmet as Moordryd Paynn…who are you?!?!?”
The mysterious man, rudely enough, did not answer, but ran straight for him. He held the stick in front of him and charged madly forward with a Tarzan-like jungle cry. “Aaaaaaahhhaaaahaaahahaaaahahhhhaahaaahaahhhahaa!”
Connor grabbed a nearby flash stick, and as the mysterious man came closer, Connor leaped mightily over a pebble. The strange man was unperturbed by this feat, and came closer still.
Connor shook his head at his foolishness. Could he not see his awesome skill?
The mystifying man still ran at him, as Connor showed him how well he could break dance. If that didn’t slow him down, nothing would. Apparently, it didn’t work, not even the catchy music Connor used slowed him down.
Then Connor, as the man sprinted at him still, decided to try one last time. He did nothing, nothing would work, it just had to. But it didn’t.
And as the man was almost close enough to perhaps touch him if he wanted too and if he tried, Connor squealed and jumped. For Slugy had just then pulled himself from the dragon business and charged blindly towards Connor’s foot, so angry and humiliated that he attacked the first humanoid he saw. Unable to put on his brakes when he realized it was not the one who threw the cake on him earlier, Slugy hit Connor’s back foot with incredible force for a draco-slug.
This startling and unexpected incident, gave Connor the right amount of surprise and jump to leap over the mysterious man’s head. The world seemed to go in slow motion.
The strange man looked up at Connor. “Whhhhhhhhaaaaaaaattttttttt tttttttttthhhhhhhhhheeeeeeee….????”
“Oooooooohhhhhhhhh,,,,, ddddddeeeeeaaaaaaarrrrr……..”
And to Connor’s further fortune, the flash stick he was carrying accidentally hit the DD man on the back of his head. His helmet came off and hit the ground.
The DD man fell soon after that, and came up with a mouthful of Slugy’s earlier trap. Behind, Connor fell as well, nearly squashing poor Slugy. Beau watched all this in shock from the back of the stables.
Connor rubbed his head as Slugy did the same beside him, using his tail. “Oooooooooooooo…” Slugy moaned.
Connor then saw the helmet on the ground. “Oh no, I knocked his head off!” Connor cried and jumped up. Not literally of course, he was getting old. He put his hands to his face in distress. “I’ll have to leave town when people discover what I had just done. I‘ll need a new name, go to a new city. I know. I‘ll grow a mustache and change my name to Penn Connor. Yes, yes. But I can’t take my kids with me while I’m on the run…oh dear, what will I d…oh, hee hee….” For Connor noticed the DD man lift his head off the ground and wipe brown glop from his mouth. “Oh, his helmet came off…” Connor chuckled. And because he laughed, Beau found it hard to resist, and he stared to laugh too. Then even Slugy found it impossible not to laugh, so he squeaked along with them.
The DD man didn’t see what was so funny. He sat up. Connor gasped. Beau accidentally snorted while laughing. Slugy laughed at him. Beau growled back. Slugy squeaked and crawled away.
“You’re Moordryd Paynn!” Captain Obvious gasped as he came out of the house. “I had to use your bathroom. I’m leaving now.”
Connor dismissed Captain Obvious with a flip of his hand. He then glared at Moordryd, opened his mouth wide, took a deep, deep breathed and gasped, “Moordryd Paynn!”
“You broke my helmet strap! You’ll pay for that old man!” Moordryd shouted at him in rage, then stalked off.
Connor rubbed his chin. “So, Word, my old friend. You’ve sent one person to try to steal Beau. It appears you’ll stop at nothing to get him.”
Connor then turned to Beau, who was just poking his head out of the stable, whining and blinking pitifully in the harsh light from the city. “Beau must choose!”
*
Later that evening, Artha and Lance were sitting by a roaring fire as they did their homework and read many challenging books with really big words in them.
“Intell…intalll…intellactualle…whatever that means.” Artha frowned and closed his book. Lance’s head immediately popped up from his own.
“Intellectual?”
“I told you before Lance,” Artha sighed as he put his book away, “only speak Draconian around me. You know I don’t know other languages.” Lance shrugged and went back to reading. Artha picked up the amulet.
“So shiny…”
Lance’s head perked up again. “What was that?” Artha frowned as he too, heard the strange noise.
“Wait here,” he said and went to the front door. He opened it, just a sliver, and saw dark shapes immediately freeze as the door was opened.
Artha opened it all the way and walked outside, pleased to have caught the thieves as they attempted to sneak past. They all had frozen in whatever position they had been in when the door opened. Artha sauntered up to the lead thief, and looked intently at him.
The thief was frozen in mid stride, arms and legs placed every which way as he had been sneaking with over exaggerated motions. Cain did his best not to move. Artha walked over to peer at Cain in his face, and Cain stared straight ahead. Several minutes passed with no one moving. Then Cain blinked.
“Aha! Caught you!” Artha cried joyfully.
“Nu-uh, blinking doesn’t count,” Cain whined.
“Oh,” Artha said, crestfallen.
Cain went back to not moving, and Artha stood there a while longer, waiting to see if any moved. None of the thieves did. Artha then sighed, getting bored. Plus, he wanted to look at the shiny amulet again. He turned around and went back inside.
As the door closed and the light from indoors disappeared, the thieves chuckled and continued their creeping to the stables. Moordryd then followed them, shaking his head in wonder and embarrassment.
Meanwhile, Artha was heading back to the front room, when he had a thought, which didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. “Hey…” He said, and turned around, opened the door again and peered out. He gasped. “They moved!”
Angered that he had lost, he snuck behind them with over exaggerated motions of his own. Suddenly, a loud explosion blew him off his feet. He landed nearly a whole two millimeters away.
Artha looked back to the house in horror. “Dad, Lance, noooooooooooo!”
*
Meanwhile, those wily thieves had rudely interrupted Beau for the second time that night. Beau lifted his head and glared at them, recognizing the DD man. He growled. At least they had no sticks with them. This time he would not be as easily cowed. He got up and ran for them and roared, accidentally yawning in the middle of it.
The thieves snickered and one grabbed a radio from his jacket. He fiddled with the channels until he found the right one. Sweet music began to play, and Beau stopped his head long run. He yawned again. Magna Draconis, that music was beautiful. Beau slowly sank to the ground, his eyelids growing heavier by the second. The thieves moved in.
*
Meanwhile, back in the front room, Artha ran inside calling desperately. “Dad, Lance, where are you?”
His ears perked up as he heard a muffled sound. “Lance, is that you? Where are you?” He called, walking over the rubble. One particular board he stepped on moved. Artha shrieked, then looked underneath and saw Lance.
“What are you doing down there? C’mon!” He grabbed Lance and pulled him out. “Where’s Dad?”
“I don’t know,” Lance said in despair. “I couldn’t find him.”
“We have to get out of here,” Artha said and looked around for an exit. Suddenly, more wreckage fell, blocking the only way out. They were trapped!
“We’re trapped!” Lance said in alarm.
*
Meanwhile again, Beau was nearly overcome from the lovely music. He struggled vainly to get up, but could not. One of the thieves tucked a teddy bear under Beau’s front paw, speeding up the process. Beau sighed dreamily and started to sink into a beautiful sleep. Suddenly….
“Dad! Help us! Get us out of here! Dad! Dad! Dinner’s burnt! Help us! Dad! We’re trapped!”
Beau opened his eyes, startling Cain, who happened to be looking at them closely. Beau fought the urge to sleep, and started to get up.
“Impossible, he’s waking up?” Moordryd gasped in amazement. “Stop him. Uh-oh…”
Beau stood up and tossed the teddy bear aside. Ignoring one of the thief’s cries for Beary’s well being, Beau magged the Dragon Eyes and threw them roughly aside.
*
Meanwhile yet again, Artha and Lance were still trying to find way out. As the smoke began to overcome them, Artha remembered something. He walked quickly to a certain wall, grabbed Lance and hoisted him up to an air duct. “Go, it leads outside.”
“How do you know? Have you used this befo…” Lance asked.
“No time for questions, just go!”
“But what about you? You’re too big and fat to fit.”
“No time for other questions, just go!”
Lance nodded and crawled away, muttering faintly about the number of spider webs and the dirtiness of the duct. Artha peered inside. It was true, he was too big, and as Lance loved to put it, too fat. He sighed and looked around at the burning building.
But just then, suddenly, abruptly and totally unexpectedly, Beau crashed through the opposite wall and then fell down. He lifted his head and gazed in awe at the pretty crow-drags flying around it.
“Beau!” Artha yelled in happiness. Beau peered around, then noticed Artha.
“Aaarrrrrraaaaa?” He asked as best he could with his dragon’s mouth. “Aaaaarrrrrrraaaaa!”
Artha hopped onto Beau’s back. “Am I glad to see you. Now let’s go.” Beau nodded in agreement and coughed on the smoke. But as he was about to crash out the other wall, something truly amazing happened. Then after Beau’s fart, the star mark on his head began to glow.
Artha gasped and remembered his father’s words. Never tickle Beau when he sleeps, for his laugh is like that of a thousand drunk hydra…. Then Artha remembered something else his father had said, something much more important. The one Beau chooses will be the Sue Booster.
Artha gasped girlishly, completely flattered. Beau, on the other paw, was in complete shock. Something was happening on his forehead, and not matter how hard he tried to see, he just couldn’t see what was happening up there. Then, a final bright flash of light filled the entire room, nearly blinding them both.
Down below, the Dragon Eyes looked at the bright flash in amazement. They awed in awed awe.
Up above, Beau crashed through the other wall, half blind, as was Artha, who was desperately trying to steer him with his mind, and landed outside surprising poor Lance, who had just made it out himself. They blinked furiously at him as their sight returned.
“Hey…,” he said, picking spider webs and dirt and dust off himself. “Why did you make me crawl through that?” He asked angrily, eyeing his brother on top of Beau.
“Uhh…” Artha stuttered.
“Wait, Beau chose…you?” Lance asked. Artha nodded sheepishly. “Wow. I’m utterly shocked. I mean, you, of all people. You…”
“Uh…that’s enough. We’ve got to get out of here.” Artha said as Beau magged Lance onto his back. He immediately took off, and ran from the Dragon Eyes who suddenly saw them. They actually pointed at them, giving away their location.
Beau ran beautifully until the platform stopped and then began to drop for about a kilometer. Beau gasped and backed away from the edge. He looked behind and saw Moordryd come his way on Decepshun. Beau threw…er, tossed Artha and Lance down to the ledge, then faced Moordryd and Decepshun boldly.
Decepshun sneered at him as Moordryd yelled in glee that he had found the Dragon of Legend and had him trapped. Beau’s menacing roar didn’t faze them in the least. As Decepshun bounded forward, Beau did as well.
Beau heard a creaking noise, and saw the Connor’s large sign wobble. Then it fell in a dangerous rush. Beau stopped his charge, and the sign fell between Moordryd and him, much to his relief.
Deepshun, however, didn’t stop, urged ever onward by Moordryd. They leapt at it, preparing to break through.
From the other side, Beau heard a loud thwack and saw the sign shake. Then he heard offensive words from Moordryd as Decepshun moaned about her sore head. Then they tried it again, managing only a louder thwack, which actually sounded more like a whump. The sign shook again, with more force than before, but remained undamaged. Then, cursing in embarrassment, Moordryd and Decepshun walked around the sign.
Decepshun’s eyes widened in horror and Moordryd said “ugh.” For Beau was attempting to jump down to the ledge where he had ‘placed’ Artha and Lance. But to him, the ledge looked much too small for him to stand on, let alone run. So he tried to ease himself down onto it, head first. His butt was stuck up in the air as he tried to slide onto the ledge, all the while thinking he should’ve gone back end first.
Moordryd, repulsed by the view, fired off a drag-ball at Beau. It hit him square on, and Beau yelped and fell safely to the ledge. Artha and Lance congratulated him, then hopped on as he ran along the ledge. It looked much wider now than it had before.
Moordyd and Decepshun jumped down and gave pursuit.
“Where are we going?” Artha asked as they ran along, the wind ruffling his black hair.
“I think Beau’s going to try to jump to the building.” Lance responded with all the dignity of a ten year old.
“Which building?”
“That one.” Lance pointed.
Artha gasped when he saw it. “Bu that’s too farrrr……..” He said as Beau sped up. Then he remembered his father’s words again. The dragon is just like the great sue power within you. Release the sue. And don’t forget to wash behind your ears.
Artha then concentrated on releasing the sue. Beau began to speed up, creating a vortex around him as he did so. Then he leaped off the edge, cart wheeling his limbs in the air, flapping his legs in an attempt to fly. Artha and Lance screamed “aaaaahhhhhhhhhhh……..” Beau went “wwwwwhhhhhhhhheeeeeee…….” Artha became sick and went “bbbbllllllleeeehhhh…….” Lance then went “eeeewwwwwww….”
And then, to the surprise of them all, they landed on the far building. Artha and Lance fell off, coming to rest in a pile of feathers and old, comfortable mattresses, while Beau plunged headfirst into a dumpster.
“We made it!” Artha exclaimed. Beau sighed and spat out a fish bone and took a banana peel off his head with his tail. As he tried to get out, the lid fell down on him.
*
During this amazing feat of excellence, Moordryd had reached the end of the ledge, and watched the astonishing jump.
“He’s getting away!” He said to no one in particular.
“Our dragon’s won’t jump that far,” Cain said, suddenly appearing beside Moordryd on Coershun and surprising him. Moordryd shrieked.
“But…but…they’re getting away,” Moordryd pointed out after he recovered.
Cain shook his head. “Nope.”
“But…”
“Nope.”
“Can’t we try…”
“Nope.”
“Let’s go find some feathers, make some wings and…”
“No.”
“…what about a jet pack?”
“No.”
“Well, then, do you have any Red Bull?”
“Uh…no.”
“But we need wings!” Moordryd whined, angered that his prey had gotten away. “WE NEED WINGS!” He shouted to the city.
Far off, in the distance, Word answered him “Well I need some tweezers, but we can’t all get what we want, now can we?”
*
Later, in Down City, Beau finally stopped running, and fell down, exhausted. Artha and Lance hopped off. Then later, after Artha called him, up rode Parmon Sean to the rescue.
“What in the Magna Draconis are you doing in Squire’s End? This is Down City crew territory. Don’t you know anyth….”
Lance cut Parm off. “This is where Beau stopped running. We tried to make him move, but he just won’t.” Then, in a whisper, Lance continued, “have you seen my father?”
Parm looked behind him to where Artha was frolicking in the flickering light of many advertisements. “No I haven’t,” he whispered back. “Could be dead.”
“Oh,” Lance said.
“This is dangerous. You have the Dragon Eye crew after you. They have spies all over the city.”
“Really?”
“Totally. Spies are everywhere. If they want your dragon, they’ll find you. They can tickle people to talk, they can…”
“I’m hungry,” Artha said as he walked up to them.
“And what about food, clothing and everything else? You need drakkals to survive.” Parm pointed out.
“I have an idea,” Artha offered.
“I don’t know what to do,” Lance said, his arms hanging down at his side.
“I still have an idea,” Artha said.
“Perhaps I can bring you to my house,” Parm said.
“I still have an idea...no wait…never mind, it’s back.”
Lance rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We need to think of something.”
“I’m in the process of possessing an exceptionally high-quality proposal,” Artha said loudly.
“Well, what is it?” Parm asked while Lance turned to him expectantly.
“Well,” Artha said, “the Down City crews race in the All City Races. I’m going to follow them. While they’re racing, I’ll stand on the street corner and dance for drakkals.”
“Superb idea! That is, if you think you can dance,” Parm said skeptically.
“Watch this.”
Lance rolled his eyes as his brother did some break dancing, proclaiming his Dad had taught him. “Wait,” Lance said as Artha was spinning on his head. “Why don’t you street race?”
“Even better idea,” Parm said as Artha fell, “you do race in your VIDDgames pretty well.”
“Exactly, it’s just a game. Besides, what dragon am I going to race?” Artha pointed out. Lance and Parmon thought for a while.
Beau, meanwhile, was tired of laying in a puddle, so he stood up and cleared his throat, causing them all to look at him. Beau concentrated his energy, changing colours in front of their eyes.
“Wonderful!” Parmon exclaimed.
“Pretty,” Artha said. “Great camouflage.”
“Uh…no,” Lance said. Beau looked at him questionably. “No pink sparkles or anything.”
Beau looked himself over, and smirked at Artha. Beau was all pink, with yellow and silver markings on him, everything covered by sparkles and glitter. He chuckled, and Artha fumed, knowing that was the exact same design he had in his Beauty Dragons VIDDgame that Beau had seen.
Beau decided to try some other colours.
“Hmm,” Parm said, “nope. Green doesn’t suit you.” Beau changed.
“Neither does yellow and orange,” Lance said. Beau changed again.
“I don’t like the looks of that pale green and greenish-yellow,” Parm said. Beau concentrated some more, and changed.
“I’m just not feeling this whole plaid thing,” Artha said. Beau changed again, hoping this one would please them all. It did.
“That is so you,” Artha said, complementing Beau’s new red and blue colours. Beau blushed.
“What does this mean?” Parm asked.
“That Beau can change colours.” Artha said bluntly.
“It also means you can race him,” Lance pointed out.
Artha held the amulet in his hand and said, “it means I can do a lot more than that.”
And to you viewers, many images of a bright and promising future flash across the screen. Artha in his draconee-yum bar commercial, Artha forgetting to retract his white rappel gear and falling, losing the amulet, Artha wearing his humongous sunglasses and getting hit in the head with the sign, Artha getting tripped by Beau, Artha’s expression when he realizes he’s switched places with Beau’s body, Artha getting tripped by Beau again, and finally, Parm’s pants falling down. Truly images of many exciting episodes to come.
Well, this was about nearly a year in the making. :P lol Didn't realize it's been quite that long. And thanks Burnout Beau, you just made me all fuzzy inside. :D
Anyway, whether you think this is funny, cheesy or stupid, my mission is accomplished if you laugh at least once. :)
Gah, over the character limit by 6,321. *is off to double post* :P
A Parody of the Choosing Part II
It is a rare, quiet moment on a drag-way in Dragon City. A moment which Slugy the draco-slug is using to mutter and groan about yesterday’s events. His anger had not subsided; instead it had manifested in his mind, ever since that wretched human had thrown him into the mess a dragon had made.
He crawled along the draconian street, fuming. Suddenly… whoosh…pfffttt…whoosh…zip…pffft…whoosh…zip…whoosh… No, Slugy wasn’t passing gas, those were the sounds of a dragon race! And Slugy was right in the middle of one!
“Squeak?!?”
The powerful dragons thundered past him, their monstrous feet nearly squashing him. Slugy ran this way and that. He went a few millimeters this way, but then he got scared and tried running back as fast as he could possibly go. A few millimeters in that direction, and he changed course again.
Finally, as the last of the overgrown lizards whoosed past, Slugy had a time to catch his breath. But then, suddenly again…whoosh…pffffffftwhoosh… the last dragon passed. Though that last sound had been Slugy passing gas. Slugy fanned the air around him with his tail as he looked around to see if anyone could smell it. He blushed. Princes did not usually do that.
Then he continued crawling to the Slime Nation. He had gone five millimeters when he stopped abruptly. What was he doing? Did the prince of the Slime Nation of draco-slugs run home to his father? NO! Slugy narrowed his eyes. He would deal with that rude human himself. Ominous music played as he followed the dragons, remembering that he had seen the human ride one of them, for this was indeed an ill-omened moment. Really.
*
Beau’s feet pounded on the track as he tried to at least keep up with the other racers. Artha and he had raced before, just a few races, but they had not yet unlocked the glorious secret as to how to avoid becoming last in every single race in very embarrassing situations. The worst had been when Artha’s pants had fallen down right at the beginning of the race and stayed down for the remainder. As everyone knows, it’s hard to pull up your pants on a speeding dragon with a bunch of other racers hitting you with sticks.
Compared to their previous races, this race was going wonderfully! Even though they were in last place, this was still the best race they had yet! Beau grinned, flashing his stunningly white teeth. Several people standing too close to the track were blinded.
But as Beau ran beautifully along, Artha began to shake the handles violently. Beau’s spirits sank. Artha had either eaten beans before the race, or he was freaking out again. Beau’s sprits sank further and then drowned. And it had seemed like they were going to finish with dignity.
“No…no…” Artha began moaning. Beau looked up at Artha, worried.
“No…I can’t watch…” Beau frowned. Was Artha scared of the speed he was running at? Beau wished he could do something to help his dear friend!
Then Artha cried and leaned forward to the VIDDscreen. Beau quickly looked around for an off ramp. He had to get help! A tear ran down Artha’s cheek. “Curse you, Hotty!” Beau grunted in surprise. Hotty? That was the main character from the new soap, All My Dragon’s Children.
Beau looked above his head, and saw Artha watching his VIDDscreen, which was tuned into that very show. Beau narrowed his eyes. How in the Magna Draconis could Artha race while watching that?
Artha began to sob at the overpowering drama on the show. “I don’t believe it! Hotty just ran over Sue with is dragon because he wants to kill her, and now she needs serious surgery! And Hotty’s going to be her surgeon! But their long lost kid showed up, but he’s not their son after all…he’s Sue’s brother! And now…”
Beau growled at Artha, who looked down at him with a questionable expression. “What?” Beau nodded to the race they were in, to which Artha huffed, “why bother? We haven’t been doing too good lately.”
“I mean,” Artha went on, “I’ve never even wanted to race dragons.” Beau looked around anxiously as sad violin music began to play. Artha sighed heavily, as if he were bearing the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. “But that all changed, the night the Dragon Eye crew tried to steal you.” Beau rolled his eyes as Artha tried to use his grownup voice again.
“The night I lost my father. The night I was CHOSEN!” Artha nearly yelled, which was stupid of him to do so; however, his voice was quite deep and commanding. The sad, sad violin music gave way to a growing symphony. “Chosen to be the world’s last hope for survival! YEA, it is I who must brave the dark barriers of our planet, to save all humanity from a coming war! HARK, the ill winds blow forth. It is coming.” Artha finished and hung his head solemnly.
A racer clapped his hands from beside them, to which Artha bowed, flattered yet modest at the same time.
“Beau,” Artha said with renewed determination as the other racer continued to watch them and clap, then hit a low hanging beam. “I’m the Dragon Booster. We need to stop watching All My Dragon’s Children (for now), and find the crew responsible for destroying the stables! THEN I SHALL SAVE THE WORLD!!!”
Beau grinned and roared with happiness. Now this was the Dragon Booster he wanted to see!
Far behind, in blind fury and with a brave heart, charged Slugy. Dun, dun, dun.
*
After the race, and after Artha got too excited, and after he came back with a new pair of pants on, Beau and he came to Parm and Lance.
Parm quipped in a happy tone. “Second place! That’s pretty good!”
“I know,” Artha said enthusiastically, “I mean, I’m not last!”
Lance crossed his arms. “But the race was only out of three people, and you only got second because the one wasn’t paying attention to the rac….”
Artha, who was rather irritated by his brother’s frankness, interrupted him quickly. “Look Lance! Draconee-yum bars!”
“Where?!?!!?”
“Over there, away from us.”
“OUT OF MY WAY!!!!!!” Lance sped off in the general direction while Beau opened his mouth wide, drool flowing everywhere, (which was rather disgusting) and swiftly followed him, accidentally knocking Parm and Artha over with his tail. With various grunts and exclamations of, “newts galore, that hurt!” Parm and Artha rubbed their heads and looked at each other.
“Good thinking Artha……………did I honestly just say that?” Parm covered his mouth, astonished.
“Yeah,” Artha giggled, still on the ground beside his friend. “My brain made a thought.”
“Good for you, Artha. Well, now we can talk without you getting discouraged by the cold, hard truth.” Parm brushed himself off and stood.
Artha flipped his hand around. “Please, racing isn’t that hard. I’m already getting the hang of it.”
“I know,” Parm said. “I admit, you are improving rather dramatically. You’re improving quite quickly for someone who’s never even sat on a dragon before.”
“What did you expect? I’m the Sue Booster.”
Parm nodded, then held up a finger. “But, you’re still far behind in point standings. You’ll need to drastically improve further, otherwise, they’ll drop you from the All City Race Circuit!”
Artha stared blankly at him. “But then I’ll have more free time right?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“Then I can play my VIDDgames more, practice my dancing…”
“Artha,” Parm slapped a hand to his forehead. “You need the drakkals to get food! You can only get a good amount from the races.”
“Oh, so you’re saying my dancing scrapes scales? Like I can’t dance well enough to earn enough drakkals that way?”
“Yes,” Parm said bluntly, “and I doubt you’ll find the Dragon Eye crew by dancing on the street corner.”
“That is a good point.” Artha said, rubbing his chin. “Unless…”
“No Artha, I doubt they actually like your dancing.”
Artha then fumed and pouted as Lance and Beau came back, both of which had managed to find some draconee-yum bars, which wasn’t hard, seeing as they were everywhere in the city.
“So…*munchy munchy*…what happened?” Lance sad whilst eating his candy.
“Artha has to train more,” Parm said. Artha pretended not to hear him. “But not to worry, we’re here for him.”
“His best buds!” Lance said energetically.
“Not just his buds, but his acquainted playmates, his friendly associates, his sociable chums…”
“Hey!” Artha chimed in. “You guysys cn be mah racing team! Won that be fun??!?”
Lance sighed. “It would be if you raced better. You stunk today.”
“Why did you come back?” Artha glared at his little brother.
“He has a point.” Parm interjected, backing Lance up. “You seemed to be distracted during the race…more so than usual.”
Artha glared at Parm and Lance. “I was not!”
Lance didn’t believe him for a millisecond. “You were too. You were…watching something. Was it Bob the Racer again?”
“NO! I grew out of that show!”
“Yeah, last week.”
“But I don’t watch it anymore. Now I watch growedup shows. I was watching All My Dragon’s Children.”
Parm gasped and put his hands to his face in pure joy. “Really? I missed this weeks episode! I only heard spoilers. What happened?”
“Well,” Artha began excitedly. “Ya know Sue? She like, got into a total accident.”
“No!”
“Totally. Guess who ran over her with his dragon? Hotty!”
Parm leaned forward in lyk, total excitement. “What?!? He really did? I heard he ran over her because she cheated on him with McCutie.”
Artha stared at him. “He did! McCutie and Sue are so cute together!”
Parm nodded his head quickly. “I know!” Then they both covered their mouths with trembling hands and jumped up and down, squealing. Lance just stared at them.
“Lance?”
Lance turned away from the rabid AMDC fans, and saw Kitt. “Kitt?”
Kitt stopped in front of Lance with Wyldfyr behind her. “I saw stable boy racing earlier today. I thought, since I heard what the Dragon Eye crew did to your stables, that I might give him some pointer…”
Kitt had just noticed Artha and Parm dancing and squealing in a little circle, so happy that Sue and McCutie had gotten together.
“Run while you still can.” Lance helpfully suggested. Kitt nodded her head slowly, and spent the rest of the day getting the new image of the stable boy out of her mind. How very unracer-like of him.
*
From a level above, looking down at Artha Penn and his crew, was Moordryd Paynn.
“What be this?” He asked angrily, and put down the ice cream he had been licking rather happily. He looked intently through his binocs at them. “Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo……………………………….ooooooooooooo……………………oo……….”
Cain, who was standing beside him and who had just begun to roll his eyes, said, “so they’ve survived the destruction of the stables.”
“As I said. And look what they’re doing now! He’s dancing for drakkals on the street corner!” Moordryd seethed. Cain could dimly hear catchy music.
“So what?”
“It’s outrageous! He’s doing a belly dance!” Moordryd tore his eyes away from his binocs in disgust.
“He’s doing more than that.” Cain sneered. Moordryd looked at him in truly wide-eyed horror.
“What more could he be doing?”
“No, no! Not with the dancing. He’s racing now too.”
“Racing? Ha…Ha…Ha…Ha.” Moordryd laughed, which was hard for such an emotionally controlled guy such as himself. (Or so he told himself.)
“I don’t know,” Cain said as he looked through Moordryd’s binocs. “Cool dragon.”
“His dragon is not cool.”
“It looks cool.”
“You’re looking through the binocs backwards, idiot.”
Cain just then realized how tiny the dragon was, when it was supposed to be bigger. He grinned sheepishly and turned the binocs around. First, he saw Artha’s wonderful belly dance, and almost lost his lunch. Regaining his composure, he turned the binoc to the ‘cool’ dragon…
“GAhhhh! It burns!” He dropped the binocs to the ground. Penn’s dragon was showered in sparkles, painted a bright pink, orange, yellow and lime green (all to attract people to the dance show) and doing his very own belly dance.
Moordryd scoffed at the dancing duo below. “Cain, get as much bad-scale, butt-whooping gear onto my dragon, Decepshun, as she can mag!”
“But that’ll just slow you both down, especially with the butt-whooping gear. This is a speed race!”
“I know. But I still win if I’m the last one standing. Cain, get ready our secret weapon.”
“Which one?”
“The big one.”
“Which big one?”
“The big, yellow one.”
“Oh, I gotcha.”
“But it’s not the big, yellow and mushy one. That one’s rotten.
“I wouldn’t have picked that one anyway. I ain’t dumb.”
“Whatever. Just have it by the track, just in case.”
Far away, and completely unrelated to Moordryd and Cain’s conversation, and still charging onward with great haste, crawled Slugy. Dun Dun DUN!
*
Artha stretched his arms, preparing for the day’s race. Suddenly, a loud voice boomed over the loud speakers, startling him and causing him to fall out of his saddle, yet another race Artha could add to his growing list of embarrassing races. And it hadn’t even started yet.
“GOOD MORNING DRAGON CITY HOW ARE YOU I’m BUDGE I’m YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBOORHOOD RACE MARSHALL I’m EXCITED FOR THIS RACEAREN’T YOUYOU SHOUL DBE THERE A HUGE GRAND PRIZE…THEN THOUSAND DRAKKALS DON’T EAT TOO MUCHCHOCOLATE I DON’T KNOW WHY HEY ITS ABOUT TO BEGIN LETS MEET THE CONTESTANTS!”
Budge took an opportunity to gasp for breath from his tirade. Then he opened several candy bars and stuffed them all into his mouth, and continued his opening to the race. “mgLETs ffgmMEET mmmgsfWINmmfSANDWICHnamnamnamnam DUCKmmfgmeateat. Mfgm nam yum mfgh NOW!”
Everyone looked at each other in confusion, not sure Budge would have made any sense even if his mouth hadn’t been full of candy. At any rate, he began to introduce the competitors, thankfully coherently.
“KITT WONN!”
Kitt waved to the crowd, and the crowd cheered extravagantly.
“ARTHA PENN!”
Artha stood up from the ground, brushed himself off sheepishly, then mounted Beau.
“MOoRDRYD PAYIN!”
Moordryd waved to the crowd, cringing from Budge’s lack of ability in spelling and grammar. Though it was so much worse when an over excited fan fell out of her seat, swooning.
“It’s MOORdrdypayynn!OMG!lyk, marry me ur so cute! Woodnt our kids lok so hoooooooooot? *giggles uncontrollably, causing the drink she was drinking to come out of her nose* omigosh, did I sresislly, lyk, just do that?? Don lok at me!!!!!”
Moordryd groaned and held his head, and tried to avoid looking at the obsessed female. Did I mention she was wearing a T-shirt that read, “I <3 Moordryd,” in big, pink lettering? There was also a lot of shiny glitter, making the girl her very own light show.
Budge went on to mention the other racers, but I won’t waste time in describing who they were. Let’s say they were, oh, Ferryt and Spynn and someone else. And then one more person to make it odd, and another to make it even again.
When Artha was once again settled comfortably in his saddle, he looked carefully around himself before activating his VIDDscreen.
“But Sue…”
“No Hotty, I cannot.”
“But SUE! I am…I’m not…”
“What?”
“What???” Artha repeated and moaned into the VIDD screen, totally into the show. Beau looked up at him and then rolled his eyes. Not again.
Then the screen began to flicker, and Parm’s huge, friendly face filled the screen. “Hello!”
“Nooooooo!” Artha wailed.
“There, I fixed your VIDDscreen!”
“Nooooooo!” Artha wailed again.
“Now you can’t watch All My Dragon’s Children during the race.”
“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”
*
The race was about to begin, and Artha was distracted. Kitt was looking at him strangely, and Artha took it as a sign of affection. Kitt, on the other hand, was wondering how much All My Dragon’s Children he really watched, and whether he squealed often, which she found profusely unappealing.
Then, as Artha was still staring at Kitt, making cute kissy faces at her, as Kitt turned away in disgust, as Moordryd’s #1 fan got a front row seat, and as Cain lugged the big, yellow, secret weapon to the track, the race started. And we all know what happened to Artha.
He sneezed, was disgusted at what was left on his hands, and since his hands were held up before him, he was unable to grab the racing handles as Beau sped off. But he did, however, manage to somehow hold onto the racing handles with his feet and wave his hands around while whining, “icky, icky!”
Needless to say, all the racers tried to avoid him.
“Artha!” Parm called out as the VIDDscreen popped up.
“Parmon, I need a tissue!”
“Wipe it on your pants or something. You’ve got to race!”
“What?”
“Artha! You’re last!”
Artha groaned and Beau magged him upright into a proper sitting position. Artha looked around, holding his hands away from his body, then looked down at Beau and wiped his hands on Beau’s head. Beau was not pleased.
“Grrrrrrrrrrr!”
Artha, happy that his hands were clean, took hold of the handles and went into a dramatic racing position. “Onward dragon!”
Beau narrowed his eyes and magged him into the air. Artha shrieked and flapped his arms around like a crow-drag who had just spun around fifty times and then attempted to fly straight. So far Artha was the highlight of the race.
Beau magged Artha back onto the saddle, ‘accidentally’ dropping him onto a certain spot on his head.
“Arrggghhh! I’ve got snot on my bottom!”
*
Seven minutes, twenty seven seconds, but now twenty eight seconds later, Artha was focused on the race, and actually wasn’t last. Surprise! Let this be a lesson to you all, hard work and practice really does pay off. But when that doesn’t work, hope that everyone else in the race beats each other up while you stay safely away. Which is what Artha did. He now faces a good chance of perhaps being possibly not last…maybe.
Kitt did a few radical moves (dude!) and noticed Artha up ahead. She was mildly surprised that he was doing so good. Artha was too.
“Yayyipee! Look at me!”
Kitt and Wyldfyr ran up beside him. “Stable boy! Don’t move your draconium controller so far back. You want to push it forward!”
“Really?” Artha asked and stopped pulling the controller back. Beau rolled his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Now he wouldn’t have to go against what the controller had been telling him to do. Artha was lucky to have him. What would he do with a normal dragon?
Kitt rolled her eyes. “You’ll have a lot easier time now.”
“Thank you,” Artha called over. “Woul dyou lyk two ge som dinnr together sometin>“
“What?”
“I sid, wod u lik to gegtsom edin nr together som tine?”
“I can’t understand you. I think it may be the wind.”
“I SID< WNT T G UOT WTH M? MYB TNGHT?”
Kitt shook her head. “I still can’t hear you. We’ll talk after the race, okay? Hyyah!”
“WIAT!” Artha called. But Kitt was already too far ahead. “Oh, snap,” Artha muttered glumly. “I have to catch up with her. I want to ask her something!”
Artha began to think about what she’d said, and pushed the controllers forward. Beau sped up. “Yeah, now we’re getting somewhere!”
Yes they were indeed. Artha and Beau weren’t falling behind as fast as before. Artha sighed. “We have to go faster yet. And all I have is white flying gear and red makes-you-go-faster gear.” Artah sighed in disgust. What could he possibly do? Then he remembered his father’s wise, wise words…
The sue is power! Release the sue inside you. Relax and release the power, release the sue! Got that? Artha? Hellooooooooooooo? Artha! Artha, were you even listening?
Apparently he had been. No one was more surprised than Artha himself. And no one was more happy that he had remembered that right at this point in time. Now he could catch up to Kitt and ask her! “Release the sue…release the sue…sue…Sue! What was Hotty going to say to her? Arghh, I missed it! Ooohhh!”
And Artha despondently sank into despondent despondency because of his limited attention span. And everyone else raced on ahead, and even Slugy began to gain ground on him. But then again, he had hitchhiked onto another dragon in the race. That particular dragon, Ferryt and his dragon, were beginning to catch up to Artha. Slugy chuckled evilly, then broke out into an evil laugh that rivaled those of Word Payyn. He was getting closer. Dun DUN DUN!
“I can’t believe Parm cut me off right as Hotty was about to…hey!” Beau shook his head and growled at Artha. “What? Oh, the race.”
Artha went back into his position of concentration; the position most people would assume and chant such sounds like, ohmmmm, or in Propheci’s case, dooommmmm, or for Artha, duhhhhh.
“Duuuuhhhhh, release the sue….duuuhhhh, release the sue….duuuhhhh, release the sue….”
Slugy’s evil laughs reached their climax. Ferryt was right beside Beau, and Slugy was too. He began to reach out with his tail, chuckling with the horror he was about to unleash on the human.
Then Beau sped up and left him in a cloud of dust. Slugy, the greatest of all draco-slug warriors, looked after them with an open mouth, then screamed. Ferryt dimly head a high pitched squeal of some sorts and thought he had forgotten to oil his dragon’s gears.
“Duuuuhhhh, release the sue…..”
Beau sped up drastically, creating a vortex around himself. Whooosssooooshhh!
“Duuuhhhh, release the sue…”
Beau passed a few racers.
“Duuuhhhh, release the sue…”
Artha got a few splattered bugs on his visor. Beau got them in his not-so-shiny-anymore teeth.
“Duuuhhhh, release the sue…”
Beau had to admit bugs weren’t as disgusting to eat as some people may want you to believe.
“Duuuhhhh, release the sue…”
Artha and Beau passed Kitt.
“Duuuhhuhuh, releae teh sue…”
And because of Artha’s lapse in spelling, the vortex he had created around Beau disappeared, and they returned to regular speed. Artha looked around for Kitt, but found his visor slightly green and sticky.
“Kitt? Kitt? Oh, I passed her. Beau, we need to slow down.”
Beau shook his head. “Artha?” Parm asked, coming on his VIDDscreen. “Artha, how did you do that?”
“With mah special sue powers. Duh. But I passed Kitt!”
“That’s the point. You might win this race!”
“Oh…oh! Great! Beau, we can do this!”
“What’s on your viso…”
Artha terminated the connection, and focused on catching up to Moordryd, who was now barely ahead of him.
“Moordryd,” Cain said, appearing on Moordryd’s VIDDscreen. “The stable brat is right behind you.”
“What? No, he can’t be. He was way back there and…” Moordryd took the time to look behind himself.
“Gahh!” he screamed.
Artha looked at him questionably with twitching parts of bugs and splattered green goo all over his visor. “What?”
Moordrdy knew he would have nightmares after this. “Cain!” He yelled into his VIDDscreen. “Place the big, yellow secret weapon near the next turn.”
“Oooo, why me? It smells awful! Why can’t you just fight the stable brat?”
“Ewww. And get close enough to touch him? Would you? No! Now put the secret weapon there!”
Cain muttered something that sounded like, “*mumble, mumble* whiny *mumble* just bugs *mumble, mumble* I hate bananas *mumble*.”
Moordryd ignored him and turned off his VIDDscreen. He looked back at Penn, and was glad Artha had wiped his visor clean. What he had used, Moordryd had no idea. Then he had an idea. “Maybe this will stop you. Arnold, Randy, Billy Joe Bob and Princess Pretty! You ready?”
“Ready boss!” Came the unified, muffled chorus from the orange gear on Decepshun.
“Alright!” Moordryd laughed and pressed a button on his handles. “Welcome to dragon racing Penn!”
“Thank you,” was Artha’s oblivious reply.
The orange gear on Decepshun slowly opened, and fired several small projectiles at Artha and Beau.
Parm gasped as he saw them through his binocs. “Artha, watch out! It’s…”
“Ninja Drag Boxes, attack!!!!” cried Arnold, leader of the bunch.
They landed on Beau, and instantly ran around on him, biting away on the gear.
Randy immediately zoned in on the red makes-you-go-faster gear, and attacked with his teeth and claws and high, spinning, super karate kicks! Crazy little Billy Joe Bob looked around, chuckling manically, and then chomped away on the white flying gear. Princess Pretty refused to engage in such an unsightly way of attacking the gear. She went to Artha’s saddle, and attempted to command it to disintegrate before her eyes. Then she caught her reflection in it, and began to polish her scales.
Arnold jumped right before Artha’s saddle. “Foolish human. Hahaha!” He did a double back flip, then with a super powered kick, kicked a wire out of the saddle compartment and karate chopped it with his hand, breaking Artha’s connection with Parm. “Hahaha!”
“Parm? Parmon!”
“Hahaha!” laughed Arnold.
“*giggle* I look so pretty…,” swooned Princess Pretty.
“Take that, hyyahh, you stupid red gear! Hyyaahh!” yelled Randy.
Billy Joe Bob just laughed uncontrollably, slightly frothing at the mouth.
“Parmon! How do I get rid of them?” Artha yelled uselessly at his non-working VIDDscreen. Arnold stuck out his tongue at him, then mooned him. “PARMON!”
Moordryd giggled evilly.
Back in the stands…“Parmon, look! Ninja Drag Boxes!” Lance yelled.
“Oh no! And there’s something worse! Look!” Parm handed his binocs to Lance, who looked through them to the next turn on the track. “Is that…a Dragon Eye?”
“Yes!” Parm said. “The Dragon Eyes are going to cheat!”
“Oh no! That’s not allowed! We have to warn Artha!”
“His VIDDscreen is off line!” Parm gasped.
“Oh no! That’s not good!”
“We have to warn him somehow…”
Lance thought for a moment. “I have an idea…”
*
“Beau? Beau, do something!”
Beau roared uselessly. The little Ninja Drag Boxes scrambled around on him as Arnold made faces at Artha. Beau did the only thing he could think of…
FFAAARRRTTT!
The Ninja Drag Boxes dropped like dead flies.
“Good thinking boy!” Artha said, holding his nose and gave him a thumbs up with a green covered glove. Beau grinned.
Moordryd looked back, and saw Artha and Beau pull up beside him. “What? How did you escape the wrath of my Ninja Drag Boxes? Arrgghhh!”
Moordryd became so infuriated, that he grabbed his mag-staff and swung it at Artha, making sure his hand was faaarr away from the stable brat. “Get away from me!” he whined.
“Careful with that!” Artha cautioned. “You might hit me.”
“Go awaaaayyyy.” Moordryd poked Artha with one end of his stick.
“That hurts. Stop it! Unngghhh, stoopppp!”
“Cain, hurry. He’s looking at me!”
“Parm, where are you? He’s touching me with his stick. Make him stop!”
“Cain, now he’s trying to touch me…eek!”
“Parm, do something. He screams like a girl!”
“Cain, where are you?”
“Parmy!” Artha whined at his blank VIDDscreen. Beau, ignoring Artha and his whining about Moordryd and the race, suddenly peered forward, than smiled with excitement. He pointed his shapely chin to the stands.
“Beau?” Artha asked, looking down at his dragon. Moordryd was relieved that Artha wasn’t looking at him anymore, and was able to pull out a mirror and focus on his incredible hawtness, confident that Cain would carry out this secret plan.
Since Beau was thrusting his head repeatedly in a specific direction, Artha eventually looked, after a few minutes of wondering what the heck his dragon was doing. “What?” Artha peered at the stands.
Since the VIDDscreen wasn’t working, thanks to Arnold, Parm and Lance decided to try a sort of charade to warn Artha about what Cain had done.
“Oh, I <3 this game! Let’s see…cactus, no. Um, clown, no. Uhh…”
Parm was dancing on one foot, his left hand above his head and his right in the shape of the number four (as best as he could manage), all the while spinning around. Artha guessed again. “Cucumber?”
Lance rolled his eyes at Parm, walked in very slow motion, then mimicked falling. Artha guessed again. “Sky diving?”
Parm waved his arms like he was flying. “Uhm…a draco-slug?”
Lance pretended to eat something, throw it down to the ground, then walk over it and fall. “Oh, I got it! A flower!”
Parm rolled his own eyes at Lance and flipped a hand at him, considering his charade to be much more clear and easier to interpret. Parm smacked his forehead, put a hand to his mouth, spun twice, hopped back, ran in one place, put his right foot in, took his right foot out, then he shook it all about, and finally, he pretended to sing using his hand as a microphone, all the while winking repeatedly. “A banana? A banana peel?” Artha correctly guessed. “What…” Then Lance sighed and pointed further down the track.
“Gasp!” Artha yelled.
There, lying right in the middle of the track and therefore impossible to miss, was a humongous banana peel!
“Gasp!” Artha yelled again. Beau gasped as well, and quickly responded to Artha’s accidental pushing of the button that controlled the red-makes-you-go-faster gear. Beau jumped and soared above and over the banana peel, breathing a sigh of relief as they landed on the other side.
Moordryd, however, was too busy making totally smexy looks in his mirror, and so didn’t notice the banana peel until it was too late. Decepshun didn’t notice it either because while she was running at over 150 miles per hour, she had been daydreaming about the Dragon of Leg…I mean, beating up various dragons and ruling the world.
After Moordryd winked at himself, he bothered to look ahead. “Gasp! Cain, I thought I told you to put the banana further back at the corner, not right in the middle of the traaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!” he yelled as Decepshun stepped on the peel, then roared as she slid on the peel. At the corner, she hit the barriers, throwing Moordryd off and into the crowd.
Moordryd’s cry of rage, however, was not heard by Cain, as Coershun and he had indigestion. Someone had to eat the banana in order to get that peel. Tubs of ice cream lay strewn around the pair; Cain thought it would be easier to eat the banana if he had ice cream with it. Now he never wanted to see a banana split again.
Meanwhile, Moordryd was still falling through the air, and soon landed heavily in the lap of a spectator. He groaned, rubbed his head, and looked at who he had landed on. Coincidently, it was the world’s biggest Moordryd Paynn fan.
She was holding her homemade sign above her head, which read, “Marry me, Moordryd.” (All in pink.) Her very sparkly shirt made it hard for Moordryd to look directly at her, but that wasn’t the scariest thing. Her face was seemingly frozen in a unbelieving scream, though no audible sound came out of her. Moordryd thought he might just slip away quietly, before she came back to her senses.
Unfortunately for him, she was in her senses…sort of. As much as she could be, at any rate. She was very much aware of what had happened, and was, in fact, screaming. All the Dragon Hounds in the city started to howl, and quite a few windows, mirrors (this included the one in Moordryd’s jacket) and VIDDscreens shattered. Then, when her voice came down a few hundred octaves into something hearable for humans, she gasped for breath and screamed excitedly. “So, lyk shld our wedin day b ona Sunday, ora saturdy?? Iv got my wdding drss all piked out!! Its pink! It lyk maches ur tux tooo!! <3!!! Lyk, kewl huh?!”
Moordryd screamed and scrambled desparately to get away. His fan rolled her eyes, and then smothered him in a huge kiss. It was quite a while before Moordryd did manage to get away.
*
Slugy jumped (or fell, but jump sounds much more valiant of him) off of Ferryt’s dragon after the race. He sighed irritably. He had been soooo close! But that human had...had some special powers. How could he compete against that?
Slugy suddenly had an idea. If he was going after a super powered human, he should get some weapons for himself. Slugy chuckled evilly. Very evilly.
*
After the race, Parm, Lance, Artha and Beau were all walking and talking, except for Artha, who couldn’t multi-task.
“See Lance? Artha interpreted my charade. He had no idea what yours meant!”
Lance glowered as Artha looked at him and nodded slowly. “How can anyone get banana peel from what you were doing?”
“Quite easily. What were you doing? You’d have to be some genius to figure that mess out,” Parm said while Lance sighed.
Walking a short distance behind, them, Moordryd and Cain scoffed at them. Moordryd was covered from head to toe in bright red kiss marks, while Cain was holding his stomach, burping occasionally and looking rather sick. “This is faaarrrrr from over, Artha Penn!” Moordryd sneered, hoping he looked intimidating. But that would be a great feat for them both, since at the moment they were anything but intimidating.
Then they walked away, planning some eeeevil plans.
And walking a short distance behind them, was Kitt. “A street crew after stable boy? Oh well.” Then she shrugged and walked away in some unknown direction, because as of right now she wasn’t important in the plot.
Meanwhile, Slugy armed himself for battle. DUN DUN DUN!
*
It was evening, and exactly the same time a few days or so before, all those dangerous things had happened. Parm, Artha and Lance walked into the stables, completely oblivious to the timing.
“Why are we back here?” Parm asked. “We can’t hide here. Why don’t we just go back to my house? I have the latest version of Battleg…”
“Parm, we need to get some more gear because I broke all the rest in the races, remember?” Artha reminded him.
“Oh, right.”
“You guys pack up all the gear, I’ll go and do nothin…I mean, go find some…more gear…” Artha smiled and backed out the door, then ran away. Parm and Lance shrugged. Artha would’ve just dropped some gear on his foot anyway.
Artha snuck around the buildings, frequently looking behind himself to see if they were following him, then went into the main building. He went up to the top and then walked over to the fireplace. He glanced around, then bent down and lifted a board, revealing a hidden compartment beneath. He grinned. What laid inside? Why, it was only half a year old Dracoween candy!
Artha sniggered, then picked up a few pieces, unwrapped them and stuffed them inside his mouth. It was very hard hiding candy from Lance, and since their dad had disappeared, they ate nothing but the cheapest food. Artha needed sugar. Parm had numerous times asked them to stay at his house, where his mom cooked food (that didn’t taste like something Artha burned) and had warm beds, a big screen VIDDscreen, surround sound too! But Artha wanted to prove he could do something himself, other than dance awesomely at the races and look hawt in his new racing jacket.
Hearing footsteps, Artha quickly placed the boards down and tried to eat all the candy he had put into his mouth. Kind of stale, but it was sugar. Artha’s heart pounded as he saw Lance walk into the room.
“Whaff arr u doin heer?”
Lance looked at him oddly. “I came to check on you. We’re ready to go. It‘s not safe to stick around here for long.”
Artha flipped a hand at Lance. “I donf meef cheeckin upf of.”
“What’s in your mouth?”
“Noftinnf.”
It took Artha a minute of hard chewing before he could swallow everything. “Told you I had nothing in there.” Lance sighed and turned to go.
“Lance?”
“What?”
“Dad’s coming back soon, right? I miss my room.”
Lance turned and tried to think of something to ease Artha’s fears. “Uh, Artha, I think…I think Dad is gone. And he’ll be gone for…quite a while.”
“Where is he? Is he coming back?” Artha asked, beginning to get even sadder than he already was.
“Yes. But don’t worry…Dad’s not really gone.” Lance said, trying to console him. He wondered how he would break the news to Artha that Connor was probably dead.
“He’s not?”
“No. He’s gone, but…he’s still here. He’s sort of…everywhere.” Lance looked around the room, conveying the thought that Connor would remain in their hearts. Artha was just shocked, and didn’t get the fact that Lance was trying to say that Connor was dead. He spun around and looked around the room.
“…dad’s beginning to scare me…”
Lance looked at Artha and sighed. “Forget it. Let’s just go.”
Lance turned to leave the room, and Artha followed closely behind.
*
On top of a building, not too far away, was Kitt Wonn. She peered through her binocs. “There’s Penn, but where’s Paynn?” For it was her duty to protect the venerable and naïve. That, and her importance to the plot was increasing. Someone had to play damsel in distress, and Khatah looked horrible in a dress. So it was up to her.
*
A short time later, Artha had forgotten all about what Lance had said, and was in Beau’s stall, ready to leave. “C’mon, Beau, we’re ready to go.”
Beau nodded, and went out of the stall. Artha followed, and neither looked back at the thin ray of light shining through the cracks in the stable wall. Just as they left, Mortis stepped out from the elevator and slapped a hand to his head and sighed. He thought the light might have sparked their curiosity.
Mortis went to the desk, scribbled something quickly on a piece of paper, stuck it to the back wall, then threw a stone at the back of Beau’s head and dove into the elevator.
Connor’s throw had been off, and Artha walked in rubbing his butt while Beau chuckled. “Who did that?” Artha asked Beau. Beau shrugged, then noticed something on the back wall.
Artha walked up to it and read, “kom duwn he elevatorre hidn bhnd th bak wal.” I must also add that most of the letters were backwards, one was upside down and most of it was too illegible to read. Artha looked at Beau, confused. Beau couldn’t decipher it either. And neither knew what the funny little arrows were pointing too.
Artha shrugged and folded the paper. “Parm’s waiting,” Artha said, and they both walked away again as Artha made a paper airplane.
Mortis grinded his teeth as he stepped out of the elevator. He looked around the stable.
Seeing nothing he could use, he muttered and walked to the door of the stall, then said in a low, spooky voice, “pssssssssssssssssssstttttttttttttt…(Artha took a moment to look at Beau, thinking he was doing something offending)…dragon boooooster……Beaaauuuuuuu…cooommmmeeee heeeerrreeeerrrreee…..noooooowwwwww.”
Artha and Beau looked around, looked at each other, then shrugged their shoulders and walked away. Mortis sighed even louder, then whispered in a harsher voice, “iiiii haaavvvveeee caaannnndddddyyyyy…….aannnnndddddddd uh, viiiiddddgaaammmeeesss.”
Beau immediately turned around and started to walk back to the stable. Artha kept walking forward, telling himself that he had to stay on task. Mortis froze. He needed both in the elevator, not just one! “And, uh, I haaavvveeeee um, piccctuurues of Kiiiittt Wooonnnnn.”
That got Artha’s attention. He jogged to catch up to Beau, and they both headed back to the stall, where Mortis had just realized that he himself was still near the door, and no where near the cave down below where he should be ready. He started to sprint to the elevator, but soon realized he wouldn’t have time. Then he jumped behind a pile of boxes.
Artha and Beau walked in. “So, where are the pict...I mean, where’s the candy and VIDDgames?”
Beau and he stopped in the middle of the room. Mortis willed them to go to the back of the room. Finally, and at long last, Beau walked to the back wall. “What, you see something?” Artha asked. But there was only a weird light coming from a crack in the wall.
“Okay, now I was promised a pic…VIDDgames, and I’m not leaving here without them!” Artha said stubbornly, and stamped his foot on the ground to emphasize his point. Beau was just as determined as he not to leave. He had been promised candy. Candy. This was a huge deal.
As Beau sniffed around the back, the elevator was triggered and was finally revealed. Beau gasped and jumped back, Artha gasped even louder than he, and Connor threw his arms up into the air and nearly shouted, “huzzah!”
Artha screamed (girlishly) and spun around quickly to see who had huzzahed. Mortis clamped a hand over his mouth and ducked behind the boxes. Artha peered in the general direction of Mortis and rubbed his chin. “Hmmm,” he hmmed.
Beau grinned and looked around at the inside of the elevator, stepped inside and waited for Artha. “Boy, are you sure that’s safe?”
Beau nodded back at Artha, then began his lengthy argument of how safe the elevator could be. He provided many exceptional points and facts to consider, and backed them all up with a solid case and proofs. It was all so organized, compelling and logical, that I myself cannot begin to comprehend Beau’s masterful intelligence. Any human, dragon and whatnot could not possibly provide any sort of rebuttal; Beau’s argument was so convincing. Unfortunately, Artha didn’t speak dragon, and there were no dragons around to listen to Beau. So a few moments later, when Beau finished his lengthy speech, Artha cocked his head to one side stupidly and said, “…so when you grunt, does that mean we’re sure to fall into certain doom?”
Beau rolled his eyes and nosed about the elevator, thinking up various new points as to why it was safe to proceed. Mortis sighed and snuck up behind Artha, who was standing, arms crossed, near the entrance to the stable. Mortis tiptoed right behind him and mouthed, “Follow Beau.”
Since Artha couldn’t hear nor read Mortis’ lips, Mortis felt like tearing out his hair in irritation. He would if his helmet weren’t on, and if he actually had hair to tear out. That irritated him further, so he ground his teeth in annoyance and frustration. Beau was already in the elevator, he just needed Artha to go in as well. Mortis almost shoved Artha forward with his hands, but stopped at the last moment. Then Artha sighed. Mortis jumped back.
“Fine, Beau, if you think it’s safe, then…well I really want those pictures.”
Artha then joined Beau in the elevator, but not before Mortis jumped behind a table to hide himself. Artha and Beau stood in the elevator for a few minutes, waiting for something to happen. Then Mortis groaned in frustration. Did he really need to do everything for them?
He found a rock, and then threw it with amazing accuracy. (It actually bounced off Artha’s head and then hit the button. (Mortis had really been aiming for the switch that closed the door. (But the button actually worked better.))) and the elevator lurched downwards at a very, very…slow rate of speed.
“Exciting,” Artha mused. “Parm will love this.”
Beau chuckled, then noticed a particular column of buttons, each with a label. They read:
Slow
Faster
Even faster
Faster yet
Faster than the last button
Expeditious
Artha looked them over, than pointed a finger to the expeditious button. Beau shook his head “no” and pointed with his chin to the ‘faster than the last button’ button. “Beau, Beau, Beau. We don’t even know how fast the last button was. Besides…expeditious has an ‘x’ in it!”
And Artha pushed the ‘expeditious’ button. Mortis grinned, and Beau braced himself. Since he was ready, when the elevator went into a freefall and arrived at the bottom, he remained standing. Artha was sprawled on the floor. Meanwhile, since there was no way he could use the elevator, Mortis had been forced to use the stairs.
Artha and Beau gingerly stepped from the elevator and decided to have a look around. Beau went over to inspect some of the statues, while Artha noticed some strange writing on the wall. This temple looked ancient. Could it be some long forgotten words of wisdom? Something from powerful people from the original war? Something from the original Dragon Booster himself? Artha peered at it and read, “Word wuz here.” This left him quite puzzled for a while.
Until he saw all the statues, that is. Beau beckoned him over. And so, together they explored the caves, looked at the ancient statues and thingies and played rock, paper, scissors when they were tired of doing the rest. Beau won. By 112.
Artha groaned aloud and shook his hand. “What’s wrong with you?”
A sudden noise, like a creaky door opening, broke the silence. Artha spun around quickly, trying to find the source of the noise. “Is someone there?”
Beau and Artha both tensed as they heard the sound of someone breathing heavily, like Race Marshall Budge had when he had ran in the Dragon City Marathon. He had given up after two blocks.
Artha and Beau walked to the elevator, where a funny man was bent double, gasping for breath. “Are…you okay?” Artha asked slowly, wondering whether it was Dracoween already.
The strange man, wearing a strange looking costume, glanced up at them and forced out, “…stairs….too…*gasp*…long…my…poor…legs…*pant*…ooh…Dragon….Booster….I….am….”
“My father?” Artha blurted out.
The man stiffened. “Erm…no… I…am…*gasp*…Mortis.”
Regrettably, since he was breathing so heavily, Artha misheard him. “You’re Muhta? Muhorta? Magna Draconis, man! What an awful name!”
Mortis stared at Artha for a moment, then shook his head. Regaining his breath, he said, “My name is Mortis. I am a Dragon Priest. I am here to help you and your dragon, the Dragon of Legend.”
Artha gasped at him. “How did you know Beau was the black and gold Dragon of Legend?”
“To begin with, he’s black. And he’s also gold. And I’ve also spied on you two. But I have much to tell you.”
“Like where the pictures are?”
*
Back on the surface, Lance and Parmon were done and waiting for Artha to come back from wherever he was at. Lance was humming a tune. “Bob the Racer, can we win it? Bob the Racer, yes we can. Oh, scales! That song is stuck in my head! Why does Artha have to watch it?” Lance groaned, knowing it was likely to stay in his head the rest of the night until he heard another song.
“It’s okay, Lance,” Parm said, very bored. “I…”
They both suddenly sat upright as they heard a veeeery, very catchy tune. “What is that?” Lance asked, glad the tune was out of his head and a new, less annoying tune had replaced it. Parm shrugged his shoulders.
“Whatever it is, it’s coming closer!”
“It sounds like…kazoos?”
Indeed it was, and as soon as it entered the stables, they saw who was making it.
“The Dragon Eye crew!” Parm yelled.
The Dragon Eye crew, all riding their dragons, ran into the stables playing their kazoos, undoubtedly Moordryd’s new theme song. They stopped in a neat line before the two frightened people.
Moordryd raised his hand and immediately the kazoos stopped. “Where is Artha Penn?” he growled menacingly. “I want to have a little talk with him!” Swayy raised her kazoo to her lips and played a ‘dun, dun, dun’ tune.
Parm yelled at Lance. “Go do something so I can escape. Yaarggh!” Lance and he doubled over and fell. They both tried to get up, but couldn’t. They couldn’t move from their place against the side of the stables.
Moordryd smiled back at his crew. “Who would have thought that the super glue could be used for more than just fixing broken gears, hmm?” His crew members voiced their agreement. Parm and Lance struggled.
Lance sighed. “Where’s Artha? This would be a great time for the Dragon of Legend to show up too.”
Parm wriggled his lips, and tried to pry them part. “I…cant ofen mm mmoot…”
Lance looked over at him and asked in a flat voice, “Don’t tell me your mouth was open when he shot the glue at us…”
*
“So um…Mortis?”
“Yes?”
Artha looked around himself. “How come…where are we?”
“In my Dragcave.”
“…your Dragcave?”
“Yes,” Mortis grinned. “Follow me and I’ll show you.”
Mortis walked ten steps to the left and waved his hand around in front of a dark cavern. Artha and Beau waited. Mortis grimaced, then waved his hand again, more furiously this time. Still, nothing happened.
“Oh, for the love of dragons…stupid motion sensors.” Mortis sighed heavily, then clapped his hands twice.
Instantly, huge lights hanging from the top of the cave lit up brightly, finally revealing the cavern. Artha and Beau gasped in amazement.
“This,” said Mortis proudly as Artha and Beau continued to stare, “is the Dragcave.”
“Drac,” Artha breathed. The cave was huge, and held countless flickering screens and looked like a high tech control room.
“That’s because it is one,” Mortis said. “This is the control room where I’ve spied on you from.”
Artha looked at Mortis. “What? That breaks some laws…it violates…in the Draconian Charter, it…that’s not very nice!”
Mortis, realizing the total awesomeness of his swanky control room was lost on Artha, and the fact that Artha was rather mad at him, which wasn’t how Mortis wanted their first meeting to go like, said quickly, “I…er did it with your father’s permission. Besides, I’m a Dragon Priest, it’s my job to train you. I have to keep an eye on you.”
Artha mulled it over. Mortis walked into the room. “But come here, I have some things to give to you.”
“Pictures?”
“Will you just forget about that already? Something much more important.” Mortis walked into the middle of the cavern, during which his voice had nearly gone out repeating over to Artha and Beau “don’t touch anything” and “don’t eat that, it’s not edible” and “watch where you’re walking, this place is pretty messy…oh, that looked like it hurt, are you okay?” and “that’s my sandwich!”
Artha, Beau, Mortis and a spider were standing near a row of tables, each with a shiny, new and expensive looking piece of technology. “Wow,” Artha said.
“I know,” these ar especial” gadgets fo rfighting,” said Mortis. “haym put thad dow”n!”
“Why?” Artha asked, holding up a sleek device which he had picked up from one of the clean, white tables and turned it on just for the heck of it.
“Thads no”t a $toy?!” Mortis said sternly, then took it form Artha and shut it off. “This device prohibits one from talking coherently. This can make your adversary difficult or impossible to understand, and depending on who you use it on, will annoy them like scales.”
Artha instantly thought of Moordryd. “Cool. Do I get this thing?”
“No,” Mortis said. “Not yet. In the wrong hands it can be…devastating.”
“…………………..…do I get it now?”
“NO!”
Artha pouted, then looked at the many other tables, all in a row. Mortis walked by them all. “Hey, do I get that one?” He reached out and picked up a pen.
Mortis rounded on him. “No! That is a grenade! It’s too dangerous for you!”
“Well, then do I get that one?” Artha asked and pointed to a drac looking gun.
“Definitely not!” Mortis said.
“What’s behind that?” Artha asked and pointed to a large door, which obviously held something super drac. He hoped to get it. Was there anything in this dragcave for him?
“Behind there is MY Dragmobile,” Mortis said, obviously attached to whatever was behind the door. “You get this.”
Artha braced himself for the super drac device he was sure to be getting. Instead of a pair of rocket boots, or some x-ray glasses with a built in laser capability for shooting thing with his eyes, it was a bracelet. Artha took it from Mortis and looked it over while Beau watched over his shoulder.
“It looks like a bracelet.”
“It is not. It’s a gauntlet.”
Artha sighed. “Well, I guess it’ll do. Does it shoot fire?”
“Uh, no.”
“How about trapping gear at least?”
“Nope. No trapping gear.”
“Does that mean there’s not even a super high tech missile launcher or anything?”
“…no.”
“What does it do?”
“It sparkles. See how pretty it is?”
“Ooooooo…”
*
Meanwhile, while Parm was desperately trying to open his mouth (and failing), Moordryd had yanked Lance free from the wall. And considering the fact that Lance had been stuck there with super glue, it wasn’t easy. And if that wasn’t enough, and the fact that he hadn’t seen Artha yet, Moordryd had another problem on his hands…
“Unggh…uuuuuuhhhh…unggggggnnnngh!…”
Lance rolled his eyes. “If you knew I was covered in super glue, why did you touch me?”
“Shut up.” Moordryd growled and tried to pull his hand off of Lance, but was having the worst of luck doing it. Lance was worried that Moordryd would rip his shirt, but Moordryd was simply worried that he might spend the rest of his life stuck to a stable brat.
“Get…ungh…off…”
“I’m…trying…to…”
And then, came the ever valiant and courageous cry of Kitt Wonn! Racer extraordinaire! She yelled Tarzan style and leapt right into the middle of the scuffle.
“Come here you dirty Dragon Eyes! Feel the wrath of spunky girl!”
She soon trailed off when she realized Parm was unable to move, and that Moordryd was preoccupied with Lance. She looked to the other Dragon Eyes.
Swayy waved at her. “Hi, Kitt.”
Kitt sighed and put away her mag staff. “Did you guys capture Artha yet?”
“Nope. He’s not here. Hey, Kitt. Are we still on for poker tomorrow night?”
“Yep. So…until Artha shows up, there’s not much to do…”
“…nope.”
Kitt sighed in boredom and sat down besides Swayy, and they all watched as Moordryd tried to detach his hand from Lance’s shirt.
*
“Oooooooooo…”
“Alright?” Mortis asked cautiously as Artha finally pried his eyes away from teh kwel shinyness.
“Yep. Looks good. But what does it do?”
“That is your armor.”
“…”
“Yep. Well that’s what I needed to give you.”
“A bracelet?”
“Gauntlet. And with it, you will learn to release your sue powers,” Mortis said as he attempted to back away and fade into the darkness suddenly and mysteriously. Unfortunately, he backed up too close to the edge of the pit that was surrounded by the huge dragon heads and fell.
Artha, so intent on figuring out how a bracelet could protect him, didn’t hear the Goofy-like scream. “Mortis?” He asked after several minutes. He looked at Beau, who hadn’t known where he had gone either.
Artha sighed and said somewhat enviously, “I wish I could disappear suddenly and mysteriously like that.”
"Help meeeeeeee…I’m stuuuuuck!”
“Well, Beau, maybe we should go back and show Lance and Parmon my new brac…er, gauntlet.”