Pic: Lester
“Oh,” said the man. “That’s not good.” He spoke with calm even though he was unbelievably scared; that is, his fear was so intense that he couldn’t believe it was real, and because his fear couldn’t be real, he must then be calm (the man was incredibly fond of this type of reasoning). “So what happens now?” continued the man. “I must admit that this is a new one for me.”
“A new what?” asked Manvreet.
“Well, I’ve never met dragons before; it’s new to me, so I’m not sure of the protocol. To be honest, the uncertainty is making me feel a bit awkward.”
Doris whispered in Manvreet’s ear, “This human is strange. The humans I remember always screamed or fainted or lost their minds in the presence of dragons.”
Manvreet agreed with Doris, but he decided for the moment to let matters unfold freely. “The protocol, I suppose, would be for you to introduce yourself.”
“Oh, yes, yes, that seems…well… to be a good place to begin. My name is William Wispish. I’m a speleologist.” William started to offer a handshake but then, fearing the loss of his arm, veered his hand to scratch his head. The head-scratching spawned a thought, which inspired him to add, “I don’t mean to be discourteous, but I would appreciate it enormously if you would not eat me.”
“Eats you! Eats you, a spelewhat! Probly a ’fectious disease that’s what. Eats you, no—not till we first cleans you good!”
“Pa!” snapped Manvreet.
Grandpa sulked, noticed that no one was noticing, and skulked off on his own.
“Wispish, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” Manvreet looked to Doris for permission to continue, and Doris returned a curt nod. “This here is Doris, my mate. That is my son, Lester (Lester waved) and that grisly aged, who just left, is my father. And I am Manvreet.”
William nodded at each dragon in turn. “I am pleased to meet you all.”
A long pause followed where no one spoke. The only sounds to be heard were a constant plopping of tiny droplets, a distant scurrying and squeaking, and a deep rumbling of hungry stomachs. Of all these speechless sounds, the hungry rumbling bothered William the most. “Um, about the not being eaten thing…”
“Cordial as you have been,” replied Manvreet, “we aren’t above enjoying food with manners; it helps the digestion. So, let’s get down to the point. If you answer all of my questions satisfactorily, then I assure you that you’ll be spared being made a morsel.”
“Fair enough,” said William, thinking it better to be affable than edible. “I am happy to be of whatever service I can to you.” He wanted to end off with a “sir” but decided that it would be too thick.
“Good. Since we’re done with the preamble, tell me, Wispish, what are you doing here?”
“Do you mean here specifically?” He pointed down at the spot where he was standing, “Or do you mean here generally?”
