“Halt, dragon!” called the knight.
“Who are you calling a dragon?”
“Oh, pardon me,” said the knight. “You looked like a dragon from behind.”
“How rude! I’m just big-boned!”
“I’m terribly sorry, gentle lizard. How can I make it up to you?”
“Don’t struggle,” said the dragon, and ate him.
“Clippity clop” went the horses’ hooves as they pulled the prince’s chariot along the forest path.
“No way!” said Milly.
“What now?” asked Dad.
“Horse hooves only go ‘clippity clop’ on hard surfaces, and what kind of forest has paved paths?”
Richard found it very irksome raising a child prodigy.
“Tonight we shall incur the esteem of our ancestors!” bellowed King Tawnyfeathers as his eager army growled in anticipation.
But his heart wasn’t in this fight. He wished he were lying in his garden, gazing at the clouds, interred in the earth he had cultivated.
Ah, to be a potato…
This story was based on a title suggestion by Claire Martin via Facebook.