August 22,

Friends,

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!