Beware! It's Friday the 13th (6 page)

Snagglefahng smiled.

S
nagglefahng stuffed Worm under his arm like a toy. He flew to the turret and hunkered down. “CLIMB ON,” he said.

Brother Dave, Erica, and Wiglaf helped one another up onto Snagglefahng’s wide back. They gripped his scales.

Snagglefahng flew down to the castle yard. He squatted and his passengers dismounted. He put Worm down.

“
Taaaanks
,” said Worm.

The lads and lasses of Class I kept their distance. No teacher came out of the castle.

Wiglaf’s heart was still racing. What would happen now?

“THIT DOWN,” said Snagglefahng.

Brother Dave and Erica sat on a blue picnic cloth. Wiglaf sat on the grass beside Worm.

Snagglefahng settled himself on the grass.

In the glow of the setting sun, the others in Class I crept closer to the dragon. They sat down too. All waited to hear what the dragon had to say.

“I VOWED TO COME BACK ONE DAY, THEEKING REVENGE,” he said.

Brother Dave nodded.

Wiglaf shuddered. He put an arm around Worm.

“BUT I HAVE COME,” said the dragon, “THEEKING BRITTLE.”

“Brittle?” said Brother Dave. “Very well. I shalt asketh my Little Brothers to baketh you some.”

“NO,” said Snagglefahng. “I WANT
YOUR
BRITTLE.”

“My—my brittle?” said Brother Dave. “The brittle that broketh off thine fangs?”

Snagglefahng nodded. “LOTHING MY FANGTH WATH VERY THAD,” he said. “BUT YOUR BRITTLE WATH THUPER. EVER THINTH I TATHTED IT, I HAVE WANTED MORE.”

“My brittle?” Brother Dave said again, as if he dared not believe it.

“YOUR BRITTLE,” said the dragon. “IT WATH HARD. BUT THE FLAVOR—THUGAR, BURNED JUST THLIGHTLY. MMMMM. IT ITH BY FAR THE BETHT BRITTLE I HAVE EVER HAD.”

Brother Dave chuckled. “Thou liketh my brittle!” he said. “Imagine!”

Wiglaf smiled to see the little monk so happy.

“I FLEW HERE,” said Snagglefahng, “TO ATHK YOU TO BAKE ME A BATCH OF BRITTLE EVERY WEEK.”

“I shalt asketh Frypot if I might useth his kitchen,” said Brother Dave. “I canst not think that he wouldst mind. Yes, dragon, I shalt bake thee brittle each and every week.”

“And if you thuck—I mean, suck—on the brittle, you won’t break your other fangs,” Erica pointed out.

“I AM THO HAPPY!” cried Snagglefahng.

Suddenly, Brother Dave frowned. “Waiteth thou, Snagglefahng,” he said. “Art thou the world’s number-one wickedest dragon?”

Snagglefahng nodded. “YETH, I AM.”

“Doest thou flame villages?” asked Brother Dave. “Doest thou rob peasants of their pennies? And others of their gold?”

“I DO,” said Snagglefahng. “I AM VERY THUCTHETHFUL.”

Brother Dave shook his head sadly. He said, “I canst baketh no brittle for thee if thou art wicked.”

“I AM A DRAGON!” cried Snagglefahng. “IT ITH MY JOB TO LOOT AND BURN!”

“Thou must geteth an honest job,” said Brother Dave. “With thy flame, thou might helpeth the Little Brothers baketh brittle. Or warmeth the cold huts of peasants on cold winter nights.”

“OOOH, REAL WORK!” groaned Snagglefahng.

“Thou couldst let small children climb upon thee for fun,” said Brother Dave, “and slideth down thy tail.”

“DON’T BE THILLY!” cried Snagglefahng. “OTHER DRAGONTH WOULD THNEER AT ME! THEY WOULD LAUGH!”

“Perhaps,” said Brother Dave.

“I WOULD NOT BE LITHTED IN THIR HETHURE NOTHALOT’S NEXT EDITION OF
THE WORLD’TH 100 WICKEDETH DRAGONTH
!” cried Snagglefahng.

“No,” agreed Brother Dave. “But thou wouldst have an everlasting supply of my fresh-baked brittle. I shalt leaveth a big bag of brittle on top of Sir Lancelot’s Stone in the Dark Forest every Tuesday morn.”

The dragon’s eyes closed. His nostrils quivered as if smelling brittle. Drool dripped from his lips as he thought how very good it would taste.

Snagglefahng’s eyes popped open. “I’LL GET A GOOD JOB,” he said.

“Hooray!” cheered everyone.

Erica and Wiglaf leaped to their feet and hugged each other.

“Thanks for jumping on Worm’s back with me, Erica,” he said. “You are the best friend ever.”

“I thought you might pass out up there alone,” Erica said. “Especially if you accidentally wounded Snagglefahng, and he started bleeding. Drip…drip…drip. Sticky oozy blood.”

“Stop!” cried Wiglaf.

Erica grinned. “Now we’re even for the clovers,” she said.

Wiglaf smiled, too.

Snagglefahng rose. “MY BITHNETH HERE IS FINISHED,” he said. “I’LL THEE YOU NEXT TUETHDAY MORNING AT THIR LANTHELOT’TH THTONE.”

“We haveth a date!” cried Brother Dave.

Snagglefahng puffed a cloud of brittle-colored smoke from his horn. Then he spread his wide wings, circled once over the yard, and flew west.

“
Byeee, Snnaggg!
” Worm burbled.

The castle door opened. Lady Lobelia led Mordred outside. The headmaster was back in his cape. But he still had a bump on his forehead the size of a goose egg. He smiled goofily.

“Worm!” said Brother Dave. “Get thee up to the library, quick!”

“Go, Worm!” urged Wiglaf. “Before Mordred sees you!”

“
Okaaaay, Mommmmy
,” burbled Worm. He hopped a few times and took off.

Now the student teachers hurried out of the castle, carrying torches. They placed them in holders along the castle wall, lighting up the yard.

Coach Plungett and Sir Mort came down the stairs next.

Behind them came Frypot, carrying a tray of steaming hot cherry tarts. He ran over to the feast table and called, “Picnic time! Come and get it or I’ll throw it out!”

Everyone—princesses and commoners—lined up at the feast table. Frypot dished out servings of meat pies, bread, cheese, and apples. There was no mention of chopped eel on a toasted loaf.

“Boy, oh boy, oh boy,” said Angus as he piled food high on his plate.

Wiglaf did the same.

Janice took her plate and galloped over to where the princesses were sitting.

“We are so lucky to go to DSA!” she said as she sat down. “Isn’t this place cool, Gwen?”

All heads turned toward Gwen. She was nibbling on a piece of cheese, holding it Princess Style, with her pinky up. She stopped nibbling and thought for a moment.

“It is,” she said at last. “Very cool.”

“You know what?” said Wiglaf, lowering his voice so there was no chance that Mordred might hear. “Friday the 13th has turned out to be a very lucky day.”

“And it’s almost over,” added Torblad happily. “Maybe we aren’t doomed after all!”

 

DSA NEWS

Written by students for students with absolutely no supervision! Vol. I

Hi, guys!

I just transferred to DSA from Dragon Whackers Alternative School. At Dragon Whackers, I was really into sports. I was captain of the Jousting Team, the Fencing Team, and the Whacking Team. I was hoping to do the same here at DSA—but then I found out that DSA didn’t have any sports teams. So guess what? I started a DSA Jousting Team! Come and try out for the team! If you don’t want to play, we can always use some cheerleaders! DSA has lots of things that Dragon Whackers didn’t have, such as Scrubbing Class and scrambled eels for breakfast. Plus DSA is haunted, which is so cool. I’m really glad I transferred to DSA. There is so much happening here!

My Full Name is…
Janice Chainmail Smotherbottom

My Favorite Subject is…
Gym

My Favorite Food is…
Gum

My Favorite Riddle is…

by Angus du Pangus

Today’s column compares how Frypot, our DSA school cook, and his cousin, Halfbake, the chef at Knight’s Noble Conservatory, make stew!

 

 

SEARED TIPS OF GRYPHON
by Halfbake

 

12 pounds finely ground gryphon
steak
2 pounds butter
2 t. salt
½
t. ground black pepper

 

Sear meat in a frying pan until lightly browned. Add butter, salt, and pepper. Cover pot and simmer for 2 hours or until meat is tender. Enjoy with rice or potatoes.

Serves up to 40 students

 

 

BURNED MYSTERY BITS
by Frypot

 

 

Throw all the stuff into big cauldron, mix it up, and light a fire under it. Boil until suppertime.

Anyone who complains gets seconds.

 

With enough moat water, it can serve hordes

Advice from Erica von Royale