The out of office messages from my good friend and fairy tale comber Jan-Loic Capricciosa are so exciting that I just have to share them.
But Jan-Loic, what has happened to the dragon? Is he still alive. Did you pour water down his throat? Did you skewer him to your sword?
Did you make a selfie? You did make a selfie, did you? Please don’t tell us that you didn’t make a selfie.
Like all I have to do is just grab a selfie stick in the heat of the fight!
Was it a Persian or a Japanese dragon? Gotlandian or Hittite?
As if I only had to ask!
Or was it, perhaps, a common European Dragon?
As if they are that common.
Jan-Loic this! Jan-Loic that!
So keen on details. Miraculously surviving a troublesome encounter with a fire breathing dragon isn’t enough, apparently. As if it is a walk in the park.
Friends, how can I concentrate on combing fairy tales, when you keep bending my ear?
Tell you what: I’ll briefly explain how I outwitted the dragon, and you all stop nagging and whining, so that I can continue looking for fairy tales.
So there I was, trapped like a mouse, in the dark and damp passageways of an abandoned gold mine. I also needed to pee. I was thinking my way out of the situation. My brain was creaking like an old soapbox. My eyes were turning. And my ears flapping like a bat. That’s how hard I was thinking.
But I came up with nothing. Nothing at all. So I grabbed a selfie stick out of my backpack and mounted a clean pair of knickers at the end of the stick. And a little bit frightened I headed torwards the way out. Already well before the exit I shouted: “Truce! Truce? Truce?!”
“What?” asked the dragon: “Are you out of your mind? Self-respecting dragons don’t do truce! So I’m not even considering your request!”
Out if each of his ears came a plume of smoke. That’s how unwilling he was.
“But I have to pee,” I said when I aproached the exit.
“Oh, I see. You have to pee,” the dragon grawled: “You should have said so immediately. Pee is always an exception, always truce.”
The dragon granted a two minute truce. Two, and not a second more!
I bargained for three. Disgruntled he shook no.
No, no, no.
“Alright then, I said: “But don’t look.”
He turned his eyes away from me, and held his right paw before them.
“Look, I can’t see anything.”
Hastily I headed for a tree and I shouted once more: “Don’t look, hey!”
And then I absconded. I ran as fast as I possibly could. Never before in my life have I ran faster. I didn’t even knew I could run that fast. Still even now the soles of my shoes have the smell of burnt rubber.
So that’s about it. I hope I can continue combing fairy tales now.
Since I’m not here, I will answer your e-mails much later on.
Until then! Or like they say in Mangodouro: MBDKQavaTsjie Kdatta!
(Ps: The key is under the mat!)
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