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|This is actually a Writing Folio I had to do for English. Not my best work, but my teacher liked it. It's based on a poem that I didn't write, called (oddly enough) 'Not My Best Side'. So, I'm just saying that this wasn't based on my own work, in case the author of the poem comes after me with a knife or something. There, I'm covered.||
Iíd flown down to the set that very morning. Not exactly a nice flight, if you ask me, since the wind was rather chilly and the sky looked like rain might come down at any moment.
Even though I was actually quite proud of being chosen for the part I was feeling a little disappointed with the artist person. He wanted to leave off two of my feet. Well, it didnít really bother me that much, but it does feel a bit odd, only having two feet. And his obsession with triangles was starting to get on my nerves.
Iím not being paid for this job, of course. Well, not in money, anyway. Iím an attention seeker by heart, but I managed to keep my cool and calmly tell the director I wanted some pay. I fancied starting my own little hoard back home. But I donít think he got the picture, because he signed a contract saying he would pay me in grain.
Come on, Iím a flipping dragon. I donít eat bloody grain.
And then he presents me with this puny little human girl. Iím supposed to look all hungry and pretend I want to eat her. No, thank you very much, Iíd sooner eat grain than an ugly thing like that.
I suggested that, since I had to die in this skit anyway, I should be conquered by a big tough guy with a massive lance or something. Even those nasty armor piercing arrows. But no! I get a skinny little boy whose balls havenít even dropped yet, on a horse with square hooves. Square. In my day, all horses were normal, right so. And whatís he holding? A stick. Pathetic! One stab in the end, thatís all it takes. Come on, I could beat this brat with my eyes shut and my hands behind my back. But then, Iím on a contract, you see. Iím not allowed to fight back much unless I make it look like heís winning. Besides, this is rather fun, this little break from the daily routine. I honestly donít mind dying at all Ė I always come back anyway, but I still would have like the battle to be a bit more realistic, you know? Thereís not even enough blood to fill a ketchup bottle. Probably shouldnít complain, though. I might not get all my due grain.
My mum said this was my big break. I could get a real rise to stardom in this. There would be a live dragon on the set and everything. Well, personally Iíd never met a dragon before, so I didnít know how Ďrealí they could get. I wondered whether heíd like me, this dragon person. And my savior? Iíd yet to meet him, too. I would be paid for this, naturally, and they would do up my makeup and everything, and Iíd even get to wear a gorgeous pretty dress. My stomach was full of butterflies zooming around! God, if only my friends could see me now. They would be positively green. Iíll tell the crew to take heaps of photos so I can show them around at school. Oh, the guys will be all over me like dogs on a bone!
Well, it was rather fun, after all, even though I totally preferred the dragon to the knight in shining armor. The armor was shining, all right. I nearly went blind. That horse looked mighty dangerous, especially with that odd neck it had. And him sitting on top of it, looking like he owned the whole world. Frankly I donít take to such behavior. And besides, you never know what lurks beneath the armor, do you? Could be a skinny runt with no muscle at all. He could have a hairy back! Oh, goodness, or bad breath! What if he wanted to talk to me afterwards? I could probably, very discreetly, offer him some PKÖ
Oh, the poor, lovely dragon. He was so good looking it was almost impossible Ė even if he only had two feet. Nice muscle work, there, too. And that tail, oh, that tail. The way he looked at me might have said something too, you know. That hungry look that said he was definitely thinking about eating me. I love being looked at like that. Fills me with a sort of personal achievement. But then my knight in shining armor had to go and stab him through the heart, and I got splattered with yucky thick blood Ė and even if it was the dragonís blood it was blood all the same, and I get queasy around it.
Oh dear - better get my PK ready. That up-himself knight is coming this way.
I reckoned she probably could have been a little more grateful. After all, I came all the way from America to shoot this film. I could have been testing out new weaponry systems back at the Base, but no. The director positively begged me to come along and rescue this maiden in distress and kill this weak looking dragon. What kind of a dragon was he, anyway? He only had two feet, for crying out loud!
Really easy to beat, too. Iím not really surprised, though. I am, after all, an excellent fighter, and equipped with all the latest gear, well, Iím practically invincible. I thought maybe the maiden would come over to me and thank me, you know, try and kiss me like all the other maidens. But when she didnít I reckoned maybe she just hadnít seen me. So I went over to her and said hello. Naturally, her eyes would widen and sheíd blush and all that, and bat her eyelashes at me. What does she do? Gives me a bloody PK.
What, is she trying to tell me something, huh? Why do I bother? Thatís gratitude, isnít it? Save her butt from a man-eating dragon and what do I get? A piece of gum!
Anyway, canít stay and chat. Thereís a situation in Brazil that needs my attention. Something to do with griffins, I hear.
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