Cinnamon Rolls and Stun Guns

Prompt: You wake up in a ditch, and there's a gun beside you. What happens next?

First thing I noticed as I sat up: the gun was bright green. At first I figured it was a toy. Then I saw a small person wearing a weird green uniform bending down to pick up the object.

"What just happened?" I asked.

"You wandered into Elvin territory," they replied. "As the border guard, I was required to stun you to prevent your advancing. While doing so I tripped and dropped my weapon."

"Awfully clumsy of you," I grumbled, getting up and dusting myself off. "So now what, am I in another dimension? I need to get home." I would have treated a green guy with a stun-gun more respectfully, but I assumed I must be having a silly dream.

"Since you're here, we need an outsider to help us kill a fierce dragon."

"You are kidding, right? I'm not in the dragon killing business!"

"The King's prophet told us a young foreigner can defeat the dragon. That's you. Come along with me."

I followed the Elf Guard without protest through a strange forest full of brightly-colored mushrooms growing in circles.

"So, am I supposed to have magic powers?"

"No. Your lack thereof is what will save us, the prophet said."

We came to an ancient stone castle and entered the king's court, where bearded wizards were gathered around a table, having a serious discussion.

"I have found the one who saves us, Your Majesty." The Elf Guard presented me to the men with a grand flourish. They stared at me, puzzled and doubtful.

"He is but a child," one observed. "What can he do against such might?"

"Would someone tell me what I'm supposed to do?"

The king and his wizards took turns sharing the story. The dragon had never been seen within the memory of anyone alive, but it made its presence known by scorching farmland and stealing cattle at night. Everyone was scared, and no one wanted to climb the mountain to deal with it.

"How do we know it's a ferocious man-eating dragon if it's never actually eaten anyone?" I asked.

"All dragons are ferocious and man-eating," the king informed me. Well, I wasn't about to argue with them, but I also didn't want to start a war with a firebreathing reptile.

"How about I approach it with an offer of peace and unity?" I suggested. "I can bring some food for it to eat. Say, cinnamon rolls? Maybe raw ones that he can bake himself?"

They all chuckled. After debating, they agreed to my plan, and an order for two dozen raw cinnamon rolls was sent to the royal kitchen. The Elf Guard handed me his stun-gun before he went back to his post.

"You'll need this more than I do."

The king assigned a squadron of twenty-five Elf soldiers to accompany me, and we headed towards a bare, rocky mountain peak on the outskirts of civilization.

I ascended the rugged mountainside accompanied by two soldiers. Close to the top we saw a stone door in the sheer rock wall.

"This is it, boy," one soldier said. "We'll hide behind the boulders. You must approach the dragon alone."

Wow. What in tarnation had I gotten myself into? I felt a strong urge to go running right back down the mountain as fast as I could and declare my mission failed. Why should I get fried for these weird Elves?

Then I remembered I had the stun-gun, two soldiers behind me and twenty-three more somewhere down below. So I gathered up my courage, stepped towards the stone door, knocked loudly on it and waited.

I heard a faint rumbling, scratching noise drawing closer, and the door slowly creaked open a crack. A surprisingly delicate blue reptile snout peeked out from behind it.

"Oh gracious, I haven't had visitors in at least two hundred years!" a gruff, raspy, hesitant voice said.

"I come in peace, good sir, from the Elvin land. They desire to know you."

"No, really? That's amazing! I'm so lonely up here by myself!" The door opened all the way, and a dragon came forth. He was about the size of a pony, with golden wingtips and stunning royal blue scales that shimmered in the sunlight.

"I've brought you some cinnamon rolls—look, you can bake them yourself just how you'd want them." I unpacked the baking sheet and set it on the ground. He looked worriedly at me.

"Please, stand a little further away. I'm afraid I'll burn you."

I gladly obliged. The dragon breathed a flame which sent out lovely wafts of warm baking cinnamon aroma. When he was done he invited me to sit and eat with him.

He eagerly explained how he had been taking only sick cattle to eat, as it was very difficult to find food on the barren mountain. The scorched fields were an accident: he was allergic to corn, so whenever he flew over farmland he sneezed disastrously.

"I don't mean to damage people's crops," he wailed. "It's hard to see where I'm going at night, and if I travel by day I'll only frighten them."

Well, you can probably figure out that the rest was easy enough. It ended with me riding on the dragon's back, flying down the mountainside to the castle gates, much to the Elves' astonishment.

The King made a peace agreement with the dragon. The Elves would feed it several dozen cinnamon rolls and a cow every day, and in return the dragon would help them light fires, bake things and even carry loads when possible, being careful to avoid contact with corn.

I watched as the Elvin kids started playing with the dragon, who was delighted to finally have companions. The King shook my hand, and I departed with much fanfare as a hero.

If my teacher mistakenly assumed I wrote a fairytale and asked me what the moral is, I guess it's that you shouldn't assume the worst of what you don't know.