![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeTitle: Customers Suck, or I Can Has Dragon
Subset: none
Word Count: 560
Rating: G
Summary: There's something wrong with the dragon.
"I want to return this dragon."
It was only a baby dragon, so he was able to plop it down on the counter without much harm to either his shoulders or the wood surface. The dragon barked, hiccuped a little belch of flame, and scratched itself behind the ear with one hind claw.
The old man behind the counter looked at it, looked at the customer, and back at the baby dragon. "Is there something wrong?"
"Of course there's something wrong! I wouldn't be returning a dragon if there weren't something wrong." The customer, a young noble of clearly more money than sense, gave the old man a scathing look. "It's incapable of human speech!"
"I hope you weren't expecting sonnets." There was a definite tone to the old man's voice, as he opened the dragon's mouth with care and a pair of forceps, peering from a distance down the belly of the beast. "It's only a baby, after all. It can't manage anything more complex than a limerick at this point."
"Of course I wasn't expecting sonnets," he snapped, "But I was at least expecting something resembling the Queen's English."
The old man and caretaker of dragons refrained from commenting that his customer's English was, at best, bastardized English. Instead he pointedly ignored the man while he examined the baby dragon's mouth, stroked its throat, and urged it to say a little something. It belched another lick of flame or two, opened its mouth, and declaimed:
"Oh what can ail thee, knight at arms
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge withered on the lake,
And no birds sing."
The customer stared, gape-mouthed and in evident shock, before sputtering back to life again. "He didn't... I mean, he wasn't... but you..."
"Clearly, I was mistaken," the old man said, whisking the dragon away underneath the counter and giving his would-be customer a stern look. "A dragon is not for you. We have a number of enchanted frogs, if you would be interested. Or perhaps something along the lines of a Blackberry Cat..."
"Now see here, my good man," the customer began, regaining some of his confidence and leaning across the counter as though he could intimidate the older man into giving him the dragon back. "I know how you sellers of magical pets are. You try to get my money, sell me a trained pet, and then fool me into believing it's defective so I'll drag it back to you and you will be oh so sorry, but all sales are final, and then when I throw it out because I can't stand to have it in the house, it will come running back to you..."
"Here's your money." The old man plopped down a bag, heavy with coin. "Now you've got your money back, and I've got my dragon back, and you can leave my shop now."
"I will not be spoken to...!"
"Now."
When the customer had gone, still sputtering about speaking to the Master of the Market, the old man picked the baby dragon back up and out from under the counter. "Now, let's see what all the fuss is about, hmm? Just what did you do to get that stupid man so riled up?"
The dragon opened its mouth, belched a little tongue of innocent flame, and spoke proudly: "I can has play tiem nao?"
Subset: none
Word Count: 560
Rating: G
Summary: There's something wrong with the dragon.
"I want to return this dragon."
It was only a baby dragon, so he was able to plop it down on the counter without much harm to either his shoulders or the wood surface. The dragon barked, hiccuped a little belch of flame, and scratched itself behind the ear with one hind claw.
The old man behind the counter looked at it, looked at the customer, and back at the baby dragon. "Is there something wrong?"
"Of course there's something wrong! I wouldn't be returning a dragon if there weren't something wrong." The customer, a young noble of clearly more money than sense, gave the old man a scathing look. "It's incapable of human speech!"
"I hope you weren't expecting sonnets." There was a definite tone to the old man's voice, as he opened the dragon's mouth with care and a pair of forceps, peering from a distance down the belly of the beast. "It's only a baby, after all. It can't manage anything more complex than a limerick at this point."
"Of course I wasn't expecting sonnets," he snapped, "But I was at least expecting something resembling the Queen's English."
The old man and caretaker of dragons refrained from commenting that his customer's English was, at best, bastardized English. Instead he pointedly ignored the man while he examined the baby dragon's mouth, stroked its throat, and urged it to say a little something. It belched another lick of flame or two, opened its mouth, and declaimed:
"Oh what can ail thee, knight at arms
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge withered on the lake,
And no birds sing."
The customer stared, gape-mouthed and in evident shock, before sputtering back to life again. "He didn't... I mean, he wasn't... but you..."
"Clearly, I was mistaken," the old man said, whisking the dragon away underneath the counter and giving his would-be customer a stern look. "A dragon is not for you. We have a number of enchanted frogs, if you would be interested. Or perhaps something along the lines of a Blackberry Cat..."
"Now see here, my good man," the customer began, regaining some of his confidence and leaning across the counter as though he could intimidate the older man into giving him the dragon back. "I know how you sellers of magical pets are. You try to get my money, sell me a trained pet, and then fool me into believing it's defective so I'll drag it back to you and you will be oh so sorry, but all sales are final, and then when I throw it out because I can't stand to have it in the house, it will come running back to you..."
"Here's your money." The old man plopped down a bag, heavy with coin. "Now you've got your money back, and I've got my dragon back, and you can leave my shop now."
"I will not be spoken to...!"
"Now."
When the customer had gone, still sputtering about speaking to the Master of the Market, the old man picked the baby dragon back up and out from under the counter. "Now, let's see what all the fuss is about, hmm? Just what did you do to get that stupid man so riled up?"
The dragon opened its mouth, belched a little tongue of innocent flame, and spoke proudly: "I can has play tiem nao?"