‘The Punch Pit?’ repeated Borgon. ‘I’ve always wondered where that was. Dad refused to tell me.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ said Grizzy, who was already looking it up in the Book of All Things. ‘According to this, it’s a purple lake made out of mouldy fruit.’
‘And it STINKS!’ grinned Borgon.
‘My book doesn’t say that,’ said Grizzy.
‘No, but my dad did,’ said Borgon. ‘He said it’s got dirty great bubbles that come up and when they pop, the smell could knock over a hippopotamus.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ said Grizzy. ‘I bet it’s another one of his big fat lies.’
‘No it’s not!’ said Borgon crossly. ‘He went there with Uncle Jing. And you’ll never guess what they did.’
‘What?’
‘They drank it.’
‘Oh,’ said Grizzy. ‘Well, I do believe that. It’s just the sort of stupid thing barbarians would do.’
‘IT WAS NOT STUPID!’ shouted Borgon. ‘Oh, well, actually it was pretty stupid,’ he admitted. ‘Dad said it was so gassy that Uncle Jing blew the backside off his trousers. HA HA HA!’
Grizzy wrinkled her nose in disgust.
‘Oh, come on!’ said Borgon. ‘Don’t you think that’s funny?’
‘No, it’s just pathetic, and barbarians are pathetic,’ said Grizzy. ‘In fact, if there’s one thing I’ve found out today, it’s just how totally pathetic barbarians are.’
Grizzy saw Borgon’s eyes going red. He drew his axe then charged at her.
‘YARGHHHH!’ screamed the Axeboy.
‘NO!’ screamed Grizzy. She had never seen him like this before. Surely Borgon wasn’t going to chop her to bits just because she said barbarians were pathetic?
Here Comes Mummy!
A large black shadow covered them both. With a crunch and a splurt Borgon drove his axe upwards into the belly of the swooping dragon. The giant beast gurgled horribly. Its wings flapped and its legs thrashed but it couldn’t stop itself hitting the ground and skidding along helplessly until it came up against some rocks.
BLUMP FLUMP BLATTER!
Grizzy ran off and dived for cover behind a fat cactus, but where had Borgon got to?
The dragon staggered to its feet. It was as big as ten horses, with bulging eyes and a long arrow-headed tail. As it gasped for breath, long flames spluttered from its mouth and blasts of sparks and dirty smoke exploded from its nostrils. Black blood was dripping out of its belly and splashing into a thick pool on the ground. In the middle of the pool was a crumpled barbarian-shaped heap.
The heap wasn’t moving so Grizzy picked up a small stone and threw it. The stone curled up through the air, soared over the dragon’s tail and then came down and smacked Borgon right on the nose.
‘YEOWW!’ yelped Borgon as he woke up.
While the dragon was looking the other way, Grizzy ran out and dragged Borgon back to hide behind the cactus with her.
‘Well?’ said Borgon triumphantly. ‘Well? WELL?’
‘Well what?’ asked Grizzy.
‘I was right, wasn’t I?’ said Borgon. ‘A dragon DID go up there. And it was BIG, so my dad did NOT lie!’
‘Yes, ok, you were right,’ admitted Grizzy. ‘But why was that other dragon so small?’
‘It must have been a baby,’ said Borgon. ‘This is the one we came for!’
The two of them peered out from behind the cactus. The dragon was trying to make its way back up the path. It flapped its wings, but then fell forwards and smacked its head on the ground. FUBBLUMP. The great beast lay there grunting and panting and thrashing its tail around crossly.
‘Quick!’ said Grizzy. ‘Let’s go while it isn’t looking.’
‘Go where?’ asked Borgon.
‘Home!’ said Grizzy.
‘You go home if you want to,’ said Borgon, stepping out from behind the cactus. ‘I’ve got a breakfast to make.’
Borgon’s axe was still lying in the pool of black blood. He went to get it but Grizzy dashed ahead of him. She snatched up the axe and raised it over her head.
‘Stop right there!’ warned Grizzy.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Borgon.
‘You’ve already hurt that dragon enough,’ said Grizzy.
‘Well, pardon me,’ said Borgon. ‘I was only saving your life.’
‘Get back,’ said Grizzy.
Borgon took a step backwards, but only because the axe was heavier than Grizzy had expected and she was starting to wobble a bit. There were many brave and heroic ways a barbarian could die, but being accidentally chopped in half by a wobbly girl savage with an axe wasn’t one of them.
‘Give me that before you hurt yourself,’ said Borgon.
‘NO!’ said Grizzy. ‘You can’t have it.’
‘Please yourself,’ said Borgon. ‘I need to get something from my horse.’
Borgon set off, but Grizzy shot past him and got to the horses first. She grabbed the triple-headed spear and pointed it at Borgon, still holding his axe in the air with the other hand.
‘I’m not letting you have this either,’ she said.
‘I don’t want it,’ said Borgon.
‘And you can’t have this … or this!’
Grizzy grabbed the mighty sword and the battle mallet, and tried to hold them all steady and point them at Borgon and look frightening at the same time.
Wobble wobble wobble.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ asked Borgon.
‘That might be a mummy dragon,’ cried Grizzy desperately. ‘And the little dragon that we saw might be her baby sitting on a mushroom waiting for her to come back. So you CAN’T just kill it for breakfast. I won’t let you.’
‘Whatever you say.’ Borgon smiled. ‘You can have all the weapons if it makes you happy. All I want is the bag.’
Grizzy had forgotten about the bag hanging from Borgon’s horse.
‘No sudden movements,’ said Grizzy. ‘I mean it!’
Borgon went over to the bag and reached inside. Grizzy raised all the weapons in the air, ready to attack him with everything at once if she had to.
‘I wanted this to be a secret,’ said Borgon. ‘But I suppose you had to find out some time.’
Very slowly, Borgon pulled something out of the bag. Grizzy was so astonished, she dropped all the weapons to the ground with a big CLUNK!
‘What have you got there?’ said Grizzy suspiciously.
‘It’s a slice of bread,’ said Borgon.
‘Bread?’ gasped Grizzy. ‘Is that how your dad killed a dragon?’
Borgon shook his head and laughed. ‘He didn’t kill a dragon. That would have been far too easy. Dragons are a lot more DANGEROUS when they’re alive … and more FUN too!’
‘Then I don’t get it,’ Grizzy said, looking very confused. ‘What breakfast can you make with a live dragon and a slice of bread?’
‘The Best Barbarian Breakfast Ever!’ chuckled Borgon.
The Longest Tail in the Desert
The dragon was still lying on the path. Its eyes were closed and every time it breathed, a sheet of yellow flame wafted up from its nose.
‘There’s still plenty of fire coming off it,’ said Borgon. He took a long thin fork from the bag and stuck it into the bread, then turned to look at Grizzy. She was standing still as a rock with her mouth hanging open in horror.
‘Let me get this right,’ said Grizzy. ‘You’ve come all the way out to the Fire Lands with a horse and weapons to risk your life making … TOAST?’
‘Yup,’ said Borgon.
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m a barbarian,’ said Borgon proudly. ‘We do things that boring savages wouldn’t dream of.’
He swished the fork around a few times to make sure the bread wasn’t going to fall off. ‘Right then, here I go,’ he said.
As Borgon set off towards the dragon, Grizzy realised she would feel very strange if she had to ride back on her own, especially with Borgon’s empty horse trot
ting along beside her. What would Mungoid and Hunjah say? What would Borgon’s dad say? Worst of all, what would Freaky Fulma say?
‘Hang on!’ cried Grizzy. ‘You can’t just walk up to a dragon and stick a bit of bread in its face.’
‘Why not?’ said Borgon.
‘You saw what the baby dragon did. This giant could roast a whole herd of elephants with one blast!’
‘YARGHHHH!’ said Borgon. ‘If my dad did it, then so can I.’
‘But he’s a big fat ugly savage,’ said Grizzy. ‘And you’re just a small fat ugly savage.’
The dragon did a sleepy grunt.
GRORNK!
An extra-big blast of fire shot out of its nose and a curtain of flames danced around its lips.
‘Look, Borgon,’ said Grizzy. ‘Why don’t I find some wood and get a little fire going, then you can make the toast on that? You can still tell everybody that you used a dragon.’
‘Barbarians don’t lie!’ said Borgon crossly. ‘And anyway, that dragon doesn’t scare me.’
‘Well, even if you don’t care about yourself, what about that poor little slice of bread?’ said Grizzy.
‘The bread?’ said Borgon.
‘Yes, it wants to be a NICE piece of toast, not burnt to bits.’
Borgon stopped.
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I never thought of that.’
Grizzy quickly held out the triple-headed spear.
‘Why don’t you put the bread on the end of this?’ she said.
‘Then you can get away faster if things turn nasty.’
Borgon put the bread on the end of the spear, then very quietly crept up to the dragon. He made his way round it until he was facing its great head. The dragon’s eyes were still closed and the flames were still flickering up from its nose. Borgon held out the spear at arm’s length.
Soon there was a nice smell of toasting bread.
Borgon took a deep sniff. Lovely!
Grizzy took a deep sniff. Lovely!
Even the horses took a deep sniff. Lovely!
Then the dragon took a deep sniff. Lovely!
‘Hurry up, bread,’ muttered Borgon. ‘You’re nearly done!’
A long green tongue slipped out from between the dragon’s lips, and snaked upwards to give the bread a big soggy lick.
‘GET OFF!’ shouted Borgon.
He snatched back the spear and accidentally whacked the dragon on the nose. The dragon’s eyes snapped open and the great head reared up. Borgon turned and ran.
VAROOOOSH!
A blast of flame shot out and set fire to the back of his trousers.
‘YEEOWWW!’ screamed Borgon.
He ducked behind the cactus with smoke pouring up from his bottom. Luckily the dragon was too dazed to have seen where he’d gone. It laid down its head and went back to sleep.
Grizzy took the spear from Borgon and inspected the bread. ‘It’s only done on one side,’ she said. She pulled the bread off, turned it round and put it back on.
‘Stand still,’ said Grizzy, then she walked round behind Borgon.
‘What ARE you doing?’ demanded Borgon.
‘Finishing the toast, of course,’ said Grizzy, holding the bread over his rear end.
Borgon looked round and suddenly realised his bottom was on fire. ‘ARGHHH!’ The barbarian jumped around slapping out the flames with both hands.
‘Oh, Borgon!’ moaned Grizzy, looking at the piece of bread. ‘You big soft dandy! It’s hardly toasted at all. You might have waited a bit longer.’
Grizzy put down the spear then ran over to a strange little cactus she’d seen next to the horses. It was shaped like a green cross with a bright blue flower on the top. She poked her finger in through the side, then wiggled it around and pulled out a blodge of green pulp. She ran back and offered it to Borgon.
‘What’s that supposed to be?’ asked Borgon.
‘Rub it on your burn,’ she said. ‘Go on, do it!’
Borgon scooped the pulp from her finger and did as he was told. Slowly a smile came to his face.
‘Ahhhhh, that’s better!’ he said. ‘What IS that?’
Grizzy got out her book and showed him a picture.
‘It’s a Green Cross Cactus,’ she said. ‘It can mend wounds, cure headaches, stop nosebleeds and get rid of spots.’
‘Nice!’ said Borgon.
‘But don’t confuse it with the CROSS GREEN cactus,’ said Grizzy, reading the book. ‘It smells like a bonfire of old socks and shouts rude words if you whistle at it.’
‘Ha ha ha!’ they both laughed.
Grizzy closed the book. ‘We’d better be getting home,’ she said.
‘Not yet!’ said Borgon. ‘This toast is only done on one side. I’m not going to have you telling everybody that a barbarian leaves a job half done.’
‘Are you mad?’ gasped Grizzy. ‘The dragon’s only dozing. It’ll blast you as soon as it sees you.’
‘Then I’ll have to move fast,’ said Borgon. ‘And there’s only one way to do that.’
Borgon took the triple-headed spear and lashed it to his horse so that it was sticking out backwards over the horse’s tail. To make it longer, he tied the fork onto the spear, then he stuck the bread on the very end. The horse stopped nibbling the cactus he had found and looked round. He liked his new long tail. It was the longest tail in the Lost Desert, and it had a fork with a piece of bread on the end! That was nice.
Borgon climbed on to his horse and got ready to gallop right past the dragon’s head. This was going to be GREAT! One good blast of flame would be enough to finish the toast, and then, as long as he got his timing right, he’d be well out of the way before his bottom caught fire again. Even mad Uncle Jing would have been impressed.
GRORNK!
The dragon opened one eye. Then the other. Its tail began to twitch and it tried to push itself up with its front legs.
‘Quick Borgon,’ said Grizzy. ‘Before it gets moving!’
‘YARGHHHH!’ shouted Borgon and his horse surged forwards.
GALLOPY GALLOPY WHIZZ!
The dragon had just got to its feet as the bread flew past its nose. It gasped in a deep breath to make a mighty blast of fire, and at the same time it lashed out with its front leg. The dragon’s long claws caught the very end of the spear and ripped off the bread.
‘Borgon!’ shouted Grizzy. ‘The bread!’
Without thinking, Borgon looked round, and so did his horse, who saw the end of his long tail lying on the ground.
The next thing Borgon knew, his horse had spun round and was running back, straight towards the dragon. The head reared up and the giant mouth opened.
‘WAH!’ screamed Borgon, covering his face with his arms.
But then a stone flew through the air and smacked the dragon hard on the nose. The beast’s head turned, the flame shot out, it missed Borgon and the horse and instead toasted a large rock off to the side. The dragon charged forwards, following the flame and bashed its head on the rock in a shower of sparks.
The great beast ended up lying on its side. It was knocked out cold and all its flames had gone.
Borgon got down from his horse and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. He couldn’t believe that Grizzy had managed to hit an attacking dragon right on the nose with a stone. If she’d missed, he would have been sizzled to bits. What a shot!
‘Borgon, are you ok?’ shouted Grizzy as she dashed towards him.
‘No,’ grunted Borgon. ‘I’ll never finish the toast now, and it’s all your fault.’
Grizzy looked a bit upset, and Borgon felt really mean. But what could he do? He was a barbarian! Barbarians couldn’t go thanking normal savage girls for saving their lives. Of course not. So Grizzy would have to stay being upset and Borgon would have to stay feeling mean and that was all there was to it.
Borgon went to give the big dragon’s head a gentle shove with his boot. When nothing happened, he pulled one of its giant eyelids open. The orange eyeball didn’t even t
witch.
‘Why did the dragon run into that rock?’ asked Grizzy.
‘It’s been a bit clumsy all along,’ said Borgon. ‘It was swaying about when it came flying from the Punch Pit.’
‘The Punch Pit!’ realised Grizzy. ‘It must have drunk some of that smelly purple lake! No wonder it was all dizzy and confused.’
‘How utterly useless,’ said Borgon. ‘I’ll never get that slice of toast finished properly now.’
Borgon went to pick up the fork.
Gloop Glump Glurge! went the dragon’s stomach.
‘What’s happening?’ asked Borgon.
‘Oh no!’ said Grizzy. ‘You know you what you said about your Uncle Jing blowing the backside off his trousers …’
Borgon saw the dragon’s belly quiver and tail twitch, then it let off a truly frightful stink right in his face.
‘OO-URGHHHH!’ coughed Borgon.
He dashed off, clutching his nose with both hands, and ended up dropping the fork. The handle stuck in the ground leaving the toast propped up in mid air. Borgon had barely got out of the way when a massive spout of flame shot out of the dragon’s bottom, followed by a cloud of green smoke.
THRURRRPPPP!
‘YUK!’ screamed Borgon and Grizzy.
Slowly the smoke and smell drifted away. Once again the dragon was lying motionless, and stuck on the end of the fork was …
‘… one absolutely perfectly cooked slice of toast!’ exclaimed Borgon.
A Little Thank You
The dragon had done its job perfectly. As it lay sleeping off the effects of the Punch Pit, Borgon picked up the fork. He tucked it into his belt, then went over to the dragon.
Borgon the Axeboy and the Dangerous Breakfast Page 3
