by Gabe Hudson
“Yes sir.”
“Now you are also aware, I presume,” he says, “that over the last few days I have been forced to execute seventeen cadets because of a series of events that originated with your grandfather Dr. Terrible’s experiments out at that confounded Institute of his? And therefore this whole mess is his fault. Because he wanted to be a show-off. Because he created that Evolution Machine. Or Evo-Mach 3000, or whatever it’s called. And then he held a press conference about it?”
“Yes sir.”
“You are also aware that Dr. Terrible has disappeared and he is considered a dangerous fugitive by the WarWings justice system. So I hope you understand my predicament. Because as Dean of WarWings I am charged with the duty of bringing Dr. Terrible to justice.”
“Yes sir.”
“So I’m not going to ask you again, Gork. Tell me where your grandfather Dr. Terrible is. Or you will not get to have my daughter as your Queen. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Gork?”
“Yes sir.”
Well at this moment I’m feeling super close and warm toward the Dean, like we are truly kindred dragons. Because we’re joined in our common enemy: Dr. Terrible. I am squatting here in the Dean’s lair and I figure that in many ways we are the same, the Dean and I. Because the ruthless Dr. Terrible has robbed the Dean of his sight in one eye. Dr. Terrible blinded him. And in a metaphorical way, my grandpa has blinded me, too. In the way that the big scaly green treacherous bastard has controlled me and deceived me and tricked me into believing things that aren’t true.
So as I squat here in the Dean’s lair it would really be impossible for me to convey to you how incredibly close I feel to him. Because we’ve both been blinded by Dr. Terrible. And because he is going to give me his daughter Runcita for my Queen. And because Runcita will lay my eggs. And inside each sacred baby dragon that hatches out of those eggs, there’ll be some of Dean Floop’s DNA. And there’ll be some of my DNA. It’s a cosmic connection, what the Dean and I have.
“Sir,” I say, “I’m real sorry.”
“What are you sorry about, cadet?”
“Sir. I don’t know where Dr. Terrible is, sir.”
Why don’t I just turn my scaly grandpa in? Why don’t I just tell Dean Floop that Dr. Terrible is hiding in his secret underground bunker over on the west side of the island? I guess my tiny shriveled heart’s torn. Because I guess even though I’m not Dr. Terrible’s biggest fan, I just can’t bring myself to rat out Dr. Terrible like that.
“Sir,” I say. “But I’d still like to ask for your permission to take your daughter to EggHarvest. Would you still be willing to help me with that, sir?”
“Excuse me?!”
“I’d still like Runcita to be my Queen. For EggHarvest, sir.”
I notice the lair has suddenly grown super hot and I realize by the sound of things that Dean Floop is breathing and huffing mega fire. Then Dean Floop belches up another thunderous firestream which rocks the lair and makes the walls quake, and this time the ground under my green webbed feet shakes and I have to raise my tail to keep my balance.
“Well clearly you are as dumb as your horns are short! If you can tell me where your grandfather Dr. Terrible is, then I can promise you my daughter’s talon as Queen. But otherwise there is no way my daughter will ever be your Queen! Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Gork?”
Now with all the added heat in the Dean’s lair, I feel a little bead of sweat trickle down under my left forelimb. Then I see the Dean lift his ugly green snout and take a couple of big suspicious whiffs, as if maybe he detects some new funk in the air.
“Yes sir. I understand.” I pause for a second before continuing to speak. Then I say: “Dr. Terrible figured you might say something like that, sir. And he told me to tell you that he would pull whatever strings he has to pull to prevent you from keeping me away from Runcita. Even if one of those strings just so happens to be wrapped tightly around your long green neck. Those were Dr. Terrible’s exact words, sir.”
Dean Floop’s tail stops lashing around and settles quietly on the floor.
“Is there anything else?” he says.
“Yes sir. I’m supposed to give you this.”
I hold up the envelope in my talon.
“What is it?!” he growls.
“My letter of recommendation.”
“For what?!”
“From Dr. Terrible, sir.”
“Come again?!”
“This is my letter of recommendation. Written by Dr. Terrible.”
“What is he recommending? And to whom?!”
“Me, sir. He’s recommending me. He’s recommending me to take your daughter Runcita to EggHarvest as my Queen. As to whom the letter is addressed, sir. It’s addressed to you, sir.”
Dean Floop whirls around to face me with blazing red eyes.
My horns instantly start tingling like crazy. And instinctively my toe claws shoot out and I raise my tail and crouch low on my trembling haunches and stay poised on the claws of my webbed feet, readying myself to flee. And judging by the twisted look on his black beak, I figure the Dean is going to fly over and rip my chest open with his fangs and eat my heart.
But really I should be able to judge what this psychotic dragon is up to by the way his throat muscles are contorting in his long green neck, like ropes being yanked into knots. And if I wasn’t so freaking terrified I could recognize the signs, but as it is the sonuvabitch catches me off guard.
Because suddenly the Dean flips opens his beak and fires a thin jetstream of venom at me and the venom whizzes thirty feet through the air. The venom flashes across the lair to where I’m squatting and I watch in horror as the tip of the venomstream appears to lunge at my beak at the last second.
And it nails me right in my scaly green chest.
Or it would have, anyway. Lucky for me I’ve always had a quick first step. Because I’m already crouched on the claws of my webbed feet and have my tail raised. So I leap to one side as the Dean’s venomstream hits the ground where I’ve just been squatting, and when the venom splashes on the floor it starts sizzling.
The maniac Dean looks at me crouched on the floor where I’ve landed.
I am panting and eyeballing the Dean in terror.
I wait to see if this deranged one-eyed dragon is going to shoot some more venom at me or what. And then finally he seems to relax a little, and he just snorts as if we’ve been playing a game and he somehow finds my style of play amusing. Now that big one-eyed dragon turns around in a leisurely fashion so that his back is to me again.
Somewhere in the lair I hear a creature whimper and drag its chains across the floor.
“Let me have it,” says Dean Floop.
“Have what, sir?”
“The letter.”
Now I glance at my talon where I’ve been holding the letter but it’s not there. And then I spot the envelope on the ground where I must have dropped it. I lunge and snatch the letter up just before the pooling venom reaches it. I’m still panting and by this point my black heart is hammering so hard I’m worried it might just explode right out of my rib cage. And it’s all I can do not to run screaming from the lair.
“Yes sir.” I hold up the envelope with a shaky talon. “It’s right here, sir.”
Then the Dean’s tongue comes shooting from over his shoulder and zooms all the way across the lair to where I’m squatting and snatches the envelope out of my talons and then in a flash the tongue retracts back to the Dean.
I hear the Dean open the letter and then he stands still as he reads it.
I’ve already read the letter so many times I could recite it out loud for him.
Dear Dean Floop:
This is my letter of recommendation for my grandson Gork The Terrible. I am recommending that you assist him in his quest to take your daughter Runcita to EggHarvest.
As you can imagine, I am monitoring Gork’s campaign to get Runcita to be his Queen very closely, and surely by now you must kn
ow that I have eyes everywhere here on the island. If you are squatting there wondering whether me saying I have eyes everywhere on the island is meant as subtle allusion to the fact that last night at our Public Debate I had occasion to rob you of your sight in one eye, well of course it isn’t, you stupid Cyclops.
What kind of monster do you take me for?
What I mean when I say I have eyes everywhere is I am probably right now watching you read this letter on a hidden video feed from one of the thousands of micro-drones that I have deployed all over the island. Now I realize this constitutes an invasion of your privacy, Dean. Me watching you like this, vis-à-vis said micro-drone.
But let me remind you that my name is Dr. Terrible.
And this is what we Terribles do.
We act terrible.
Now I want to make it clear that if you attempt in any way to block my grandson Gork’s attempts to make your daughter Runcita his Queen for EggHarvest, then I will have no choice but to use my new Evolution Machine, or Evo-Mach 3000, and mind-swap you with a little white mouse.
Now I imagine that Mrs. Floop, not to mention the cadets at WarWings, will be quite surprised when the only noise you can make with your beak is squeak squeak squeak.
Furthermore, I’m sure this will lead to some very difficult questions from Mrs. Floop. Like why do you keep waking me up in the middle of the night and begging for cheese?
Now let me address the elephant in the room. Gork’s horns. Obviously I recognize and acknowledge my grandson Gork’s horns are substandard in every way. And perhaps Gork’s tiny horns diminish somewhat his standing in your eyes—forgive me, I mean “eye”—as an ideal mating partner for your daughter Runcita.
Now even for me, his grandfather, his own scales and blood, I must confess that the sight of Gork’s puny horns sometimes make me very nauseous. And once recently while Gork was asleep I came into his lair and looked at him sleeping peacefully there in his nest and the sight of his horns made me puke. But of course I never told Gork about this because I didn’t want to ruin the young dragon’s self-esteem. Though I guess when he woke up in the morning he must’ve wondered where all that vomit came from, but whatever.
You see, young Gork’s parents died when their Fertility Mission spaceship crashed on their Designated Foreign Planet.
Now at the time, none of us knew that Gork’s parents’ spaceship had crashed on the surface of planet Earth. All we knew was that the transmissions from Gorks’ parents’ spaceship cut off abruptly. Initially I had no cause for concern, though. I simply thought they were too busy conquering Earth to be bothered with sending us a status update. You know how young dragons can be on their Fertility Mission.
Now when the remains of their spaceship crashed into planet Earth, all of the eggs aboard were lost in the explosion. All except for one. Miraculously, Gork’s egg survived among the wreckage there in one of Earth’s forests. So eventually Gork hatched and then for the next three years he grew up all alone and raised himself in this forest on planet Earth.
Now personally I could not rest without knowing precisely what had happened to that spaceship ATHENOS with my son on it. I spared no expense in constructing all manner of exploratory machines to try and scour the galaxies for any clue as to what had happened to that spaceship ATHENOS. Eventually one of my Planetary Drone Probes made a DNA match there on Earth, and I was alerted of Gork’s existence and I rescued him from the forests of that planet Earth. And I brought him back here to Scale Island and raised him as if he were my own son.
But by the time I rescued Gork, he was already three years old. And because he did not receive proper guidance or supervision for those first three years of his life, he has some developmental disabilities. More specifically, Gork is severely lacking in the WILL TO POWER department. And as a result his horns haven’t matured at the same rate as a normal dragon his age.
But I have been working with Gork since he came into my life, trying to boost his HORN DENSITY & MASS. And I have every confidence that one day his actions will not only reflect his Terrible lineage, but that his horns will also grow to match the Terrible mind-set that he is the rightful heir to. Well unfortunately that day is not here yet but it will be soon! At which point Gork’s horns will grow to be at least five feet long.
Now I assume this is all the reassurance you need in order to accept Gork’s bid to procure your daughter as his Queen for EggHarvest. And I assume you will not only support but actively assist my grandson Gork in his quest to make your daughter his Queen.
If not, might I recommend you take a look in the mirror and try to imagine what you will look like with whiskers.
Yours Truly,
Dr. Karzakus The Terrible, M.D., Ph.D.
Distinguished Research Professor
Institute of Advanced Biokinetics and Neuroanatomy
WarWings Military Academy
Now when Dean Floop finishes reading the letter, he crumples it up and tosses it up in the air and opens his beak and blasts the letter with a firebolt. The letter goes up in a tiny cloud of smoke.
Then the Dean flicks his long scaly neck back and forth as if he aims to compose himself before speaking. And I whisk my tail around behind me, preparing to leap out of the way in case the Dean tries to blast me with a firebolt this time.
And Dean Floop does blast me.
Just not with fire. He blasts me with words.
This big demented dragon turns to face me and snorts flames out his nostrils and bellows: “I’m afraid I have bad news for you, Gork! There will be no quid pro quo. The deal is off. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Gork?!”
“Yes sir.”
“Good! Because with the power vested in me as the Dean of WarWings I hereby forbid you to ask my daughter Runcita to be your Queen for EggHarvest! Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Gork?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good! Because take my word for it, if you so much as even glance at my daughter Runcita I will have you marched out to the campus quad and I will blast you with a firestream and reduce your sorry tail to a pile of ash! Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Gork?!”
Somewhere in the lair I hear that same creature whimper and drag its chains across the floor.
Now it feels like my shrunken heart is made of glass and the Dean’s tirade is a hammer smashing my heart into a thousand little pieces.
Then Dean Floop belches up a thunderous firestream which shakes the lair and makes the walls quake. I have to raise my tail to keep from getting thrown off my webbed feet.
“Yes sir.”
“Good! Because in terms of a mating partner you are nothing but a liability and a laughingstock! If I weren’t so disgusted by the sight of you I’d be laughing my head off right now at the thought of you possibly mating with my daughter! Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Gork?!”
By this point I am just busy trying to keep myself from crying.
“Yes sir. May I be dismissed?”
“What?!”
“By your leave, sir?”
“Dismissed!”
Then as I turn and head for the door, this demented dragon Dean Floop fires his parting shot. “And tell your meddlesome grandfather it doesn’t matter how far he runs or where he hides because he is a fugitive in the eyes of the WarWings Council of the Elders and I will bring him to justice! Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Gork?!”
“Yes sir.” I’ve stopped and turned to face the Dean while he speaks to me, per WarWings regulations.
“Good! Now be gone, Gork, and I never want to see your stinking beak or your retarded-looking horns again! If I ever have to see you again, it will be right before I blast you with a firestream and execute you! Although come to think of it, why bother putting off the inevitable?!”
Then this scaly bastard Dean Floop cocks his long green neck and flips his wings out and blasts a mega firestream which flashes at me like a bolt of lightning. But I’m already crouched on my haunches with my
tail whisking around behind me. And I dive out the door with the flames from the Dean’s firestream heating up my scaly backside.
And as I dive out the door, I can’t help thinking:
Yeah so what if they call you Weak Sauce. And yeah so what if Runcita’s father wants you dead. Well at least you’re not being carted out of the Dean’s lair as a pile of ash in the janitor’s dustbin! And no matter what they say or what names they call you, you’ve got WILL TO POWER, Gork.
You really do.
Now you go do what you gotta do.
[ 38 ]
THWACK-THWACK
Thwack-thwack.
By this point, there is no time to lose.
Thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack thwack.
I flap my wings and fly down dark fiery corridor after dark fiery corridor after dark fiery corridor. I flash through the air in a blur.