There's a Dragon in my Toilet!

by Tom Nicoll

  “Yeah!” I said, punching the air. “Let’s go! Wait – what’s wrong?”

  Pan’s face had gone a bit red. “Nothing. Just realized I need to use the little dragon’s room. Back in a minute.”

  We waited as Pan headed off to the bathroom. About a minute later, I heard his tiny voice yell, “Eric, I think you’d better get in here.”

  I screwed up my face. “No, thanks!”

  “Seriously, Eric, come here. Right now!”

  I gave Min and Jayden a worried look and entered the bathroom, scared of what I might find. But all I saw was Pan standing on the edge of the toilet bowl, peering in.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Look,” said Pan, pointing towards the water. Finally I could see what he was talking about. The water inside the toilet was bubbling. Little bubbles at first, but then bigger and bigger until—

  A jet of water exploded out of the toilet, sending us both flying backwards.

  And then there they were, walking towards us across the soaked bathroom floor. Two Mini-Dragons. Two miserable-looking Mini-Dragons in wetsuits, wearing little glass helmets on their heads.

  They unzipped themselves then tossed aside their diving equipment.

  It was fairly obvious which one was which – Aunt Maria was the taller of the pair by a couple of centimetres. She quickly wrapped her head in an expensive-looking silk scarf before putting on a pair of dark glasses, both of which she pulled from a small plastic bag. Uncle Fernando, meanwhile, was the roundest looking Mini-Dragon I had seen so far. The only thing he wore was a grumpy expression and a brown waterproof backpack.

  Pan and I looked at each other. Bramble Park would have to wait.

  “So you’re Erica, then?” said Uncle Fernando, a trace of a Spanish accent in his voice. “They said we should speak English, since you haven’t bothered to learn Mini-Dragon.”

  “Eric,” I said. “Erica is a girl’s name.”

  Uncle Fernando looked at me suspiciously. “You’re a boy, are you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, annoyed by his rudeness. In fact I got the feeling he knew all this, but was just trying to wind me up for some reason.

  The dumpy little dragon gave a shrug. “You humans all look the same to me.”

  “What’s going on?” asked Min, as she and Jayden entered the bathroom behind us.

  “Ugh, there’s more of them,” snapped Aunt Maria. “Pan Long, get away from those filthy humans right now. You don’t know where they’ve been.”

  “We’re filthy?” I said. “You two just came out of the toilet!”

  “Of course we did,” said Uncle Fernando. “Across the seas, it’s a straight flight, but in the cities, the sewer network is the most efficient and safest way for a Mini-Dragon to travel. Every Mini-Dragon knows that.”

  “Pan, come here and give your aunt a kiss,” said Aunt Maria.

  A reluctant Pan had only taken a couple of steps towards her when she dragon-handled him into a hug and planted a smacker right on his snout. Under normal circumstances I might have had a good laugh, but somehow it didn’t seem very funny right then.

  “Let me get a good look at you,” she said, shoving Pan back. “Just as I thought – you’re skin and bones. You don’t look any bigger than when we saw you last year.”

  “That’s because this human’s had him living off prawn crackers,” said Uncle Fernando.

  “Actually, according to the Encyclopaedia Dragonica, prawn crackers contain everything a Mini-Dragon needs for a healthy diet,” I said. If anything, I was pretty sure Pan had put on weight since I first met him. I mean, he wasn’t as well fed as his uncle, that was for sure, but it’s not like he was wasting away, either.

  Pan’s relatives looked at each other with stunned expressions.

  “Maria,” said Uncle Fernando, “maybe I got some water in my ears back there … or did that human just lecture us about the dietary habits of Mini-Dragons?”

  “Thinks he knows all about us because he read it in some book,” said Aunt Maria.

  “Know better than us, do you, boy?” shouted Uncle Fernando, puffing out his chest.

  “No, no…” I said, taking a step backwards and accidentally knocking over a bottle of shampoo and a Scuba Dave toy that had been resting on the end of the bath.

  Aunt Maria peered at me over her sunglasses. “A bit old for toys, aren’t we?” she said.

  “I’m nine,” I said defensively.

  “Exactly,” she replied.

  My face flushed red as I put the bottle and the toy back. I tried to think of a clever reply, but all I could manage was, “Get lost.”

  “How dare you speak to my wife like that!” said Uncle Fernando, holding up his tiny claws as fists.

  Aunt Maria touched her husband’s arm. “Leave it, Fernando, he’s not worth it.”

  Uncle Fernando nodded. “You’re right, my love,” he said, dropping his arms. “Typical human. I just can’t stand them.”

  Pan, Min, Jayden and I frowned in unison. “What’s wrong with humans?” Min asked.

  Aunt Maria put her head in her hands. “Oh no,” she groaned. “You had to ask. Now he’s going to do the song.”

  Uncle Fernando spread his wings, flew up and perched himself on the edge of the bath. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with humans.” He started to sing:

  There was an awkward silence as Uncle Fernando took a bow before flying back down. Aunt Maria gave him an embarrassed clap.

  “You know,” said Min thoughtfully. “If you changed a few of those words, you could make it rhyme.”

  Uncle Fernando’s face went bright red with anger. “And they’re obsessed with rhymes!” he shouted. “If I wanted criticism, I would have asked for it. Pan, get over here, we’re leaving.”

  “Already?” I said.

  The four of us looked at each other in horror.

  “But you just got here!” said Jayden.

  “Yes, and it’s already been too long,” said Aunt Maria, turning up her snout. She undid the straps on Uncle Fernando’s backpack and removed a folded-up wetsuit and another small glass helmet. She tossed them to Pan. “Your uncle made you this diving helmet for going underwater. Not that we’re expecting any gratitude from you. Go on, put it on.”

  “I’m not getting in the toilet,” said Pan.

  “Oh yes, you are, sunshine,” said Uncle Fernando, as he and Aunt Maria started putting their wetsuits back on.

  “Just be grateful that we’re not making you fly once we reach the ocean,” said Aunt Maria. “Your poor uncle is going to have to carry you to Mexico. And him with his back.”

  Uncle Fernando flexed his flabby arms. “Lucky for you, Pan, I’ve still got these bad boys. You don’t get this sort of strength from prawn crackers, trust me.”

  “You can’t go yet!” I said.

  Uncle Fernando placed his hands on his hips. “Oh? And why is that?”

  It was a good question, and one I didn’t have an answer for. My mind scrambled for a solution, but drew a blank. As everyone waited for me to speak, I glanced down at Pan, who gave me a wink before tossing the glass helmet into the air. It came as high as my chin before plummeting back to the ground.

  Smash!

  All heads turned towards Pan, the helmet at his feet, smashed to pieces.

  “Whoops,” said Pan.

  “You did that on purpose!” shouted Uncle Fernando.

  “No, I didn’t,” said Pan. “It just slipped.” He was trying his best to look convincing, but I don’t think anyone believed him.

  “Can it be fixed?” asked Aunt Maria.

  Uncle Fernando considered the shattered bits of glass on the floor, examining a couple of pieces in his hands. “Some careful fire breathing should do the trick. But it’ll take some time. We’ll need to stay the night.”

  Aunt Maria looked repulsed. “US?” she cried. “Staying with HUMANS? Don’t you remember your own song? Can’t we go somewhere else and come back when it’s fixed?”


  “Yes!” said Pan. “That sounds like a great idea.”

  “I’m not exactly thrilled with the situation myself, Maria,” said Uncle Fernando, ignoring Pan, “but that Mini-Dragon needs to be watched. You know he smashed that helmet on purpose. He has no respect – and who do you think he got that from?”

  Aunt Maria gave Min, Jayden and me a dirty look.

  “Exactly,” said Uncle Fernando. “So I’m not leaving him unsupervised with the humans. We’ll stay here tonight, I’ll get the helmet fixed, then we’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

  Aunt Maria folded her arms, pouting. “Fine,” she mumbled.

  As happy as I was that Pan wasn’t going anywhere, for the night at least, the thought of sharing my bedroom with another two Mini-Dragons didn’t exactly fill me with joy.

  I was running out of drawers for a start.

  Uncle Fernando carefully placed the broken pieces into his backpack, then after hastily cleaning up the bathroom with a couple of towels, I managed to get everyone back into my room. It wasn’t long before Pan’s uncle had taken to my desk as if it were a stage. As he told us all about their trip from Mexico to Spain to England in excruciating detail, Min and Jayden conveniently remembered they had to go home. Aunt Maria sat on the end of the desk chair, filing her claws. She mostly ignored her husband but occasionally piped up when he got a bit of the story wrong. Pan and I, meanwhile, lay on my bed. Pan had already drifted off and I was beginning to feel my own eyes getting heavy when we heard a noise.

  “What’s a ‘ding-dong’?” asked Aunt Maria.

  Pan let out a yawn before shaking his head. “That’s the doorbell,” he said. “It tells you that there’s someone at the door.”

  “It’ll be Toby round for his dinner,” I said to Pan. “Can you keep an eye on them, make sure they don’t do … well, anything really.”

  “I doubt it,” sighed Pan, “but I’ll try.”

  To give you an idea of how bad it was being in the company of Pan’s aunt and uncle I had never been so happy to see Toby in all my life.

  “Toby!” I said, greeting him at the front door. “It’s great to see you.”

  “What? No, it isn’t,” said Toby, barging past me.

  “Yes, it is,” I said. “Come through, I think Mum’s made hot dogs tonight.”

  Toby hung up his coat then grunted something that sounded like approval as we entered the kitchen.

  “Mum, Dad, look who’s here,” I said cheerfully.

  My parents looked at me, then each other. “Everything OK, Eric?” asked Dad.

  “Fine, thanks,” I said. “Just happy Toby’s here, that’s all.”

  Mum put her hand on my forehead. “Hmm … he doesn’t have a temperature,” she said. “You sure you’re not ill? Do you want to go upstairs and have a lie-down?”

  “No!” I blurted out. Going back upstairs was the last thing I wanted to do. “Honestly, I’m fine.”

  SNAP!

  “Now, Posy, no camera at the table,” said Mum, taking the device off her. Posy, strapped into her high chair, reacted exactly how you would expect a two-and-a-half-year-old to react to having their favourite toy taken away – she cried. A lot.

  “Oh dear,” said Dad. “She loves that thing.”

  “Mum got me one of those,” said Toby, as he tucked into a hot dog – it’d take more than a screaming toddler to distract Toby from his food. “Bit more advanced than Posy’s obviously. It’s top-of-the-range kit – just like the pros use. Really expensive.”

  For some reason, it quickly came back to me how annoying Toby was.

  I normally hated playing video games with Toby. I always had to lose or else he’d find a way to get me in trouble. But tonight I was just glad I didn’t have to go back upstairs for a while. Still, I couldn’t help feeling guilty for leaving Pan to deal with his aunt and uncle by himself.

  Once Toby had left it was time to face the music and I made my way up the stairs. But when I got to my room I found Pan by himself, reading comics and chomping away on some prawn crackers. In a period of just a few seconds I went through five distinct stages:

  “They’ve gone to find something to eat,” said Pan. “I told them not to leave, but they wouldn’t listen.”

  “How hard did you try?” I asked.

  “Not very,” admitted Pan. “In fact I … er… Never mind.”

  I looked at Pan suspiciously. “What were you going to say?”

  Pan put down the comic book. “All right… Well, I sort of had an idea for how to get rid of them.”

  I could tell this wasn’t going to be good. “An idea?”

  “Yeah,” said Pan, nodding. “I offered them some prawn crackers, but they laughed in my face. They said they needed something with a bit of meat on it. So I told them where they could find food like that. Nearby.”

  I thought about this for a few moments. Then the penny dropped and I let out a huge gasp. “Not Pusskin?” I said.

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” he said.

  I thought about this. “Are you sure? Because it sounds quite bad to me. You sent your aunt and uncle to eat my cat!”

  “OK, when you put it like that it sounds bad,” said Pan. “But don’t worry, my aunt and uncle are terrible hunters. Pusskin’s not in any trouble. I’m figuring she’ll take one look at them and run them out of town.”

  “And if she doesn’t?” I asked, not entirely sure who I was more worried about – Pusskin or the Mini-Dragons.

  “Haven’t really thought that far,” admitted Pan.

  “ARRRRRRRRGHHHHH!” screamed a voice that was unmistakably Pan’s aunt.

  Pan and I looked at each other in horror, then bolted out of the door.

  “Eric, is everything all right?” shouted Mum from downstairs.

  “Fine, Mum,” I shouted back. “I just … stubbed my toe on my bed.”

  “Ouch. OK, well, be careful.”

  In actual fact, the scream had come from Posy’s bedroom. We opened the door to find a petrified Aunt Maria trembling in one corner of the room, and Pusskin in the other.

  “Where’s Uncle Fernando?” I asked.

  “I think that’s his legs, there,” said Pan. “Hanging out of Pusskin’s mouth.”

  It’s difficult to know what to do in situations like these. Situations where your friend’s uncle is being eaten by your cat.

  Do you:

  I had to admit c) did have a certain appeal. If Uncle Fernando escaped then great, I guess. But if he didn’t then … Pan would have to stay! No way could Aunt Maria carry him back to Mexico. Wait – how on earth could I think that? What kind of monster was I?

  “Help him!” screamed Aunt Maria.

  I made a move towards Pusskin, but Pan shot ahead of me until he was about a metre away from the greedy feline.

  “Pusskin,” he said in a low voice. “I want you to release my uncle. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

  Pusskin stared at Pan, unblinking. Uncle Fernando’s legs wriggled helplessly, which at least confirmed he was still alive. Just when it looked like Pusskin wasn’t going to back down, Pan took a deep intake of breath and released a huge burst of flame that came within centimetres of the cat’s face – and Uncle Fernando’s legs.

  Now, Pusskin didn’t like a lot of things including, but not limited to:

  Of all the things Pusskin hates, that last one is probably the most important one here. She spat out Uncle Fernando, sending him skidding across the room in a trail of saliva, before bolting out of the room, almost knocking over Posy who was standing in the hall. Seeing her, I quickly closed the door and made a mental note to check her camera later.

  “Fernando!” wailed Aunt Maria, flinging herself into his arms, only to realize that she too was now covered in cat saliva. “Eeeeuuuuurrrrrghhhhh!” she cried, shoving him away.

  “Just so everyone’s clear,” I said, looking directly at Pan, who was avoiding my gaze. “There will be no more hunting of my cat.”

&nbs
p; “Maybe if you’d put on a decent spread for your guests, instead of prawn crackers, they wouldn’t have been forced to find their own food,” said Aunt Maria.

  “It looked to me like the only one finding food was Pusskin,” I said. “It wouldn’t kill you to thank Pan, by the way. He did just save your life.”

  “He’s the one who told us where to find the cat,” said Uncle Fernando. “He didn’t say anything about it being a ruthless killing machine. Although obviously I had the situation under control. Two more seconds and I would have toasted the big furball.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Come on, Uncle Fernando,” sighed Pan. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said since we got here,” he replied.

  Pan led his relatives through to the bathroom. When we got there, Pan and I watched them with curiosity. They weren’t heading towards the sink. They weren’t even heading towards the bath or the shower.

  I looked at Pan. “They’re not…?” I said.

  They were.

  Plonk!

  Plonk!

  They were in the toilet. Again.

  “Ah, the water’s lovely,” said Uncle Fernando.

  “It’s the only decent thing in this place,” agreed Aunt Maria.

  “I thought dragons hated water?” I said, remembering a note from the Encyclopaedia Dragonica.

  “We’re washing ourselves,” came Uncle Fernando’s voice from the toilet bowl. “Not drinking it – that would be disgusting.”

  “Yeah, that would be disgusting,” said Pan sarcastically.

  I frowned. There was water all over the floor. “I just cleaned this place,” I sighed, grabbing another towel.