Okay, no dog was in charge for a year. Would’ve been funny though.
What happened was this: everyone was pretty happy that the sue happy family was out of commission. Sure, the dragon was a bit of a nuisance at times but it didn’t dare do too much damage. It wasn’t worse than being sued all the time.
Until last Tuesday at 2:05 p.m. That’s when that one prince actually got through. We all thought he was horse meat. There wasn’t anything spectacular about him. Quite the contrary. He was pretty short, a bit on the pudgy side, with orange hair, lots of freckles, and a blue cape. Everyone knows capes aren’t good field wear. Too easily caught on something. Worse, he also wore name brand jeans. The already ripped kind. When he bent over to bow to our current Lottery Winner Leader, we saw his butt crack. Not a pretty sight, and trust me, I’ve seen several butt cracks in all my born days. Even my youngest daughter, the Fair Megan, expressed a sincere desire not to see his butt crack ever again. My eldest daughter, Haley the Contrary, merely averted her eyes with a heavy sigh. My son, the Gallant John Gregory, would more than likely have made some sort of scornful snort, but he was away learning to be a soldier. My husband, Sir Walt, did not notice anything. He was looking at the carriage in which the prince arrived. It had the latest wheels or whatnot.
So the prince arrived, announced his intention to go rescue the princess and her family, we all insincerely wished him luck and waved him off. First, as a matter of policy, the Lottery Winner Leader asked where his next of kin lived, just in case.
We heard the usual sounds of a terrible fight, but this time the dragon didn’t come and thoughtfully drop off the corpse in the town square as usual. This time, no dragon appeared. Instead, the next thing we knew, the chapel bells in the castle were ringing.
“Crap,” I said. “We’re going to need a lawyer.”
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