by Gabe Hudson
Suddenly I hear an insanely loud roar explode from within that fiery cage. And this roar is so powerful that it instantly sends flametongues and blacksmoke geysers and sparks exploding straight up into the sky. And then in a flash I realize what this scaly bastard Rexro has just done, which is really kind of ingenious when you think about it. Because he’s used the mega force of his roar to blast the flaming roof right off the cage so that now he has an avenue of escape.
And then with another mighty roar, Rexro the dragon pops out of the top of the fiery cage like a champagne cork. It’s really something to see, the way he leaps up out of those flames so that he’s now maybe forty feet high in the air.
But here’s the part that really gets my attention.
After this demented dragon is clear of the fiery cage and up there in midair he unfurls his huge leathery wings and he flaps them twice—thwack-thwack—and with that he is suddenly flying toward me at what seems like supersonic speed.
[ 9 ]
HERE COMES REXRO
I have no idea why I don’t just fly out of here while I have the chance.
It would be so simple to unfurl my wings and soar off into the sky. I mean considering the circumstances, you’d figure this was a no-brainer. Of course part of it is my desire to get to Runcita ASAP and offer her my crown. And teleportation definitely offers the quickest and most direct route to my luscious Queen-to-Be.
But as I stand there I’m thinking:
Get out while you’re ahead!
I raise the silver canister and quickly spritz my horns with GrowGrow® gel. And then without really knowing why I’m doing it, I squirt flamestreams out my nostrils and start singing a WILL TO POWER poem:
“Hey Weak Sauce, when it looks
like an older dragon
is going to rip your scaly green head off
well don’t just squat there like an idiot
and cough!
Flap your wings
and take to the air
and don’t waste no time
getting the heck outta there!
Because sometimes it’s best
to live to blast fire another day
so with your absence
is how you make your enemy pay!
OK?”
As soon as I finish singing, I remember.
The CTD-2000.
The Cranial Telecaster Device strikes again. And when I finish belting out Dr. Terrible’s poem there on the Zap Pad, I feel the effects surging through my central nervous system and jacking me up with WTP. The title of this poem is “Just Because You Flee, That Doesn’t Make You a Flea.”
My nostrils flare.
Live to blast fire another day. Roger that.
Meanwhile I’ve forgotten where that poem comes from, but there’s a mild tingling sensation which I know is from my neural pathways being cauterized.
Then I look at Rexro up there in the air and immediately start coughing like crazy. Because here’s one thing I know for sure about myself this morning as Rexro is hurtling right at me in full nightmare mode:
Oh dear God my big fragile heart is in serious danger of quitting on me.
I think I’m going to faint.
But I’m also thinking:
This psycho Rexro won’t bother ripping off your tail like he threatened earlier! Because he’s going to rip off your head! And your head won’t ever grow back!
Now as if to confirm that I’m right, I quickly glance behind me and sure enough all the fiendish cadets gathered around have their powerstaffs out and they are pointing them at my scaly green ass because they’re capturing everything that’s happening on their holovid recorders. Soon I’ll be headless and my legacy for all time will be a short violent holovid clip that these dragons send to their pals for a quick laugh.
I whirl back around and see that Rexro with his wings spread wide is now only maybe twenty yards away from me. His eyes are blazing red. But as I squat out here on the teleportation pad and watch Rexro cut down the distance that separates us at speeds I personally can’t even fathom, I hear someone shout my name.
“Gork!”
At first I think I’m imagining it, but then I hear someone shout my name again.
“Gork! Up here! Gork! Gork!”
I look up and I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
It is Fribby.
That silver robot is soaring about thirty yards above the flaming Safety Cage and she has her chrome-flex wings spread wide and framed against the morning sky. She looks nothing short of glorious.
Fribby shouts, “Gork, get ready!” Now she drops her silver scaly head and wings and aims right for the burning Safety Cage, swooping down at it like she’s in full kamikaze mode. She shouts, “I’m going in! Hold tight!”
For a brief second I catch a glimpse of the robot diving straight down into the blazing cage.
But unfortunately at this same moment out of the corner of my eye I see a green blur flashing toward me and it’s that tyrant Rexro. And as he flies right at me I feel like I can almost reach out and touch him and I hear him growling and I can see his fangs sparkling and I see his deranged red eyes blooming in their sockets like blood flowers.
And even though I know it’s hopeless I prepare to meet Rexro’s onslaught with my own attack. And so I instantly unfurl my leathery wings and raise my scaly green tail in a Threat Display and bare my fangs and growl a beakful of flames and snort blacksmoke out my nostrils so as to strike the most scarifying pose possible.
But of course it doesn’t matter. Because in another instant I’ll be nothing but a bloodstain in the lava pits.
And over Rexro’s scaly green shoulder I can just see the flaming cage and then his wing swoops down on me and cuts off my view. If only the robot had been a few seconds earlier, then maybe she could’ve saved me from getting killed.
And as I feel Rexro’s fiery breath on my long neck, I think to myself:
Thanks for trying, Fribby. I know your intentions were so pure and true. I hope you will not soon forget me!
It seems that you were right after all in your whole obsession with death. I really should’ve thought more about it! You were right, Fribby! You were right all along!
Then at this very moment my thoughts are interrupted by a bright yellow light exploding up under my webbed feet.
[ 10 ]
POOF
Poof.
I materialize crouched on my haunches here in WarWings’ Main Building, right in front of Runcita’s locker.
Fribby made it to the button after all. And the button must’ve still been set to Runcita’s coordinates. I look around at my new surroundings here inside WarWings’ Central Campus, not quite believing it.
I grin a beakful of fangs, thinking about how close I came to getting my candle snuffed out just now by that depraved bastard Rexro. I sure wish I could see the look on his monsterish scaly green face as he flies through the empty space where I was just a second ago on the teleportation pad. I bet all those other cadets hanging around out there in the lava pits are snorting and hooting and howling at him right now as he picks himself up off the ground.
And for a second I worry that Rexro will turn around and go after Fribby. But then I realize the robot will have a thirty-yard head start on him. Plus he’ll be all pooped and tuckered out from the energy he’s just expended trying to murder me.
And heck, that robot is so ornery I’m sure she could put up a good fight even if they were on equal footing.
But now that he’ll be all tired and confused, Rexro won’t be a match for Ms. Cyber Scales. Fribby will be fine. Fribby will be more than fine.
Fribby will prevail.
But just in case, I whip out my powerstaff and send a message to Fribby:
Thanks chick!!!!!!!!! I owe you big-time!!!!
That was badass!
I’m in front of Runcita’s locker right now!
She was just here, so I’ll track her down soon.
Are you doing OK?!
And then I think:
Maybe I’ve got the makings of a Terrible after all.
And maybe I can still get Runcita to be my Queen for EggHarvest!
Suddenly there’s a white-hot flash in my brain. Then, without really knowing why I’m doing it, I squirt blacksmoke out my nostrils and start singing a WILL TO POWER poem:
“The secret of life is
when in doubt,
be terrible!
Because true happiness
can only come to you
by making someone else’s life
unbearable!”
And when I finish belting out the poem here in the corridor, I feel the poem surging through my central nervous system and giving me a major boost of MATING MAGNETISM. The title of this poem is “The Secret of Life Is Strife.”
My nostrils flare.
The secret of life is strife.
I feel my heart smile a little.
I snort firebolts of joy out my nostrils.
Who knew that being ferocious could get you so far? And I can’t wait to tell Dr. Terrible about my progress, but then I recall we aren’t on speaking terms anymore and this makes me feel pretty downhearted. But not so downhearted that I can’t still be happy about my progress.
Plus I don’t have time to think about this stuff anyway, because I have to find Runcita pronto.
I’m on my Queen Quest.
I glance around to get my bearings.
Where is my Queen?
Now the corridor is jammed with cadets getting ready for their first-period classes. Above me the airspace is choked with flying dragons.
Down here on the ground, fools and chicks are hooting at each other and laughing. And the sounds of deranged dragons slamming their lockers shut ring out in the corridor like rifle shots.
I wave my scaly snout and take a couple sniffs around Runcita’s locker and I get a fresh juicy whiff of her. I can tell she’s just been here. Maybe even as recently as just a few seconds ago. And I don’t mean to sound perverted here, but this blast of Runcita’s essence shooting up my nasal passages feels like a sweet kick to the brain.
Then I swivel my scaly head around and:
There she is!
Runcita!
My God, she is looking even more scaly and gorgeous than when I saw her out in the lava pits. And it takes everything I have not to faint at the sight of her. Run-ci-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three taps down the palate to tap, at three, on the fangs. Run. Ci. Ta. She’s right there, maybe twenty feet down the hall. I can’t believe it.
She’s just squatting there jabbering to some crusty older dragon fool. But I take a closer look and realize it’s not just some older crusty dragon fool she’s talking to. It’s her dad. Dean Floop.
Dean Floop!
Holy crap!
And the demented and dangerous Dean Floop is jabbering on to his daughter Runcita, waving his talons around, and his tail is whisking back and forth. The Dean is wearing the eye patch over his left eye, from where Dr. Terrible blinded him last night out on the campus quad during the RageFest.
Holy crap.
All the other cadets are keeping a wide berth from Dean Floop as he stands there whipping his spiked tail around in the corridor and talking to Runcita.
Now I can’t be certain, but it sure as heck looks like Runcita doesn’t care much for her dad. I mean the vibe she’s throwing him right now is Hurry and wrap this up and get out of my scaly green face. You figure Runcita knows what a treacherous scoundrel her dad is.
So I just hang back, watching the two of them jabbering back and forth. I mean it sure looks like Dean Floop is trying to convince her of something. Like he’s aiming to get her to do something she doesn’t want to do.
Because the Dean keeps flapping his leathery wings and waving his talons while his daughter stares down at his giant webbed feet and just keeps shaking her head no.
So I figure whatever they’re talking about has got something to do with the fact that it’s Crown Day. But I don’t have a clue as to how. I mean you never see Dean Floop out in the halls like this. And I know it can’t be a coincidence, the fact that it’s Crown Day and suddenly here’s Dean Floop walking out in front of the other dragons.
I mean usually all Dean Floop does is stay in his lair on campus and have WarWings cadets sent to him, to terrorize them. Or, in some cases, eat them.
So I figure that I’ll just have to wait for the two of them to finish jabbering. Because I’m sure as heck not about to go up to Runcita with the Dean standing there. I’ll just have to wait for them to finish and for Dean Floop to turn and fly off.
Then I’ll go up to my darling Runcita and offer her my crown and ask her to be my Queen for EggHarvest.
But as I’m thinking this, suddenly Dean Floop turns and points a murderous-looking index claw right at my scaly ass while he speaks to Runcita. And she follows his claw with her gaze and for a second her green eyes light on me and my toe claws shudder. And I instantly duck down behind a group of cadets out of sight.
Holy crap! Was Dean Floop pointing at me? Did Runcita just glance over at me?
[ 11 ]
HOW DR. TERRIBLE REVEALED HIS FIENDISH EVOLUTION MACHINE AT THE TELEVISED PRESS CONFERENCE EARLIER THIS WEEK
Let me quickly tell you why Dean Floop hates my grandpa Dr. Terrible so much. And why Dean Floop would love nothing more than to dance on my grandpa’s scaly green carcass.
Dr. Terrible burst onto the public’s radar Tuesday morning when he appeared on TV. My grandpa just stood there behind the podium and you could hear the flashes as the dragon journalists in the audience snapped holovid pics with their powerstaffs. He was decked out in his finest WarWings cloak and robe and his trademark red cape. He had his tail arched over his scaly green head and his leathery wings were relaxed and spread out wide in such a way as to suggest this was indeed a momentous occasion.
“Good morning!” purred my grandpa, snorting firestreams out his nostrils. “My name is Dr. Terrible. I run the Institute of Advanced Biokinetics and Neuroanatomy here at WarWings. And the reason you have been invited here today is to witness firsthand my newest scientific invention. It’s called the Evolution Machine. You can call it the Evo-Mach 3000.” My grandpa pointed an index claw at the big screen hanging on the wall behind him. “That lion and that worm were my first test subjects on the Evo-Mach 3000. In this image, as you can see, those two critters are having their minds swapped.”
Now up on the screen there appeared the deranged Evo-Mach 3000. The Evolution Machine was a giant upright stasis tank that comprised two fused pods, and each pod was filled with thick clear goo, and inside one pod was a lion and in the other pod was a tiny worm. Each pod had a series of tubes running out of it, which met in a small silver pyramid hovering above the pods. The pyramid was pulsing with light, as if the fiendish machine were breathing.
“Now,” said Dr. Terrible, as he looked out at all the dragon journalists in the audience, “I created the Evo-Mach 3000 so that our species can utilize the mind-swap, for the purposes of stealth warfare. Because now with my new Evo-Mach 3000, dragons will be able to hide in plain sight, blend into the native population on any planet we have come to conquer.”
This famous dragon journalist in the front row, Bozz, stood up and snorted flamestreams out his nostrils. “What exactly do you mean by hide in plain sight?” he snarled. “And why have I been brought here this morning to look at images of a stupid worm?! I don’t appreciate having my time wasted! Hurry up and get to the point!”
There was a chorus of growls and delirious hisses of agreement among the dragon journalists, who now had their tails raised in the air and were glaring at Dr. Terrible. The vibe in the room was definitely fiendish, and you should know that dragon journalists on Blegwethia are notoriously ruthless.
Because on my home planet Blegwethia if a journalist shows up to report a story and they don’t like the situation they’re seeing, they’re not afraid to wade right in and get t
heir claws and beak bloody. That’s dragon journalism for you.
“Are there any among you here today that are tired of playing the role of the big green scary monster?” said Dr. Terrible. “Are there any among you who while conquering a planet have thought to yourself, There has got to be an easier way? Must we always play the role of the barbarian, watching the natives flee in terror before our firestreams? Now don’t get me wrong, I love seeing a native flee in terror as much as the next dragon. But what I am driving at here is what if you had a choice? That’s right. I said choice.”
“Do I have a choice to sit here and listen to this twaddle?” snorted one of the fool dragons sitting in the front row. “Because if so, I choose to leave!”
The entire audience erupted with deranged snorts and hoots of laughter.
Dr. Terrible ignored the disruption, waited a second for them to quiet down, and then proceeded. “Well I say no, we do not always have to be the monster! Not with my new Evolution Machine, we don’t! Imagine if you could mind-swap with the native species of a planet, such as a butterfly? A butterfly who could shoot fire out its mouth and fly at speeds of up to three hundred miles per hour? A butterfly fully capable of conquering and enslaving an entire planet? A butterfly with a taste for gold and the ability to write epic poetry? We are talking the ultimate in camouflage here. Because if you’re disguised as a butterfly, your future slaves would never even see you coming!
“Well enough with the hypotheticals! Let’s look at actual results! So for my first procedure earlier this morning, I used my Evolution Machine to perform a mind-swap. As you can see in the image on the screen, I swapped a worm into a lion’s body, and the lion into the worm’s body. My new Evolution Machine performed brilliantly. So now what you are about to see is the worm, post-procedure. A worm that can now wriggle at speeds up to sixty miles per hour! A worm whose array of instincts and abilities has been radically altered because of my Evo-Mach 3000!”