While I'm Being Rescued

                I was hanging over a pit of doom as a monstrous knight with a disgusting mole hair threatened me when someone broke through the door. Now, there are two knights, Sir Mole Hair versus the new contender. His armor is super shiny. It reminds me of the skim on the top of the slop that my neighbor feeds his pigs . . . Cripes. I need a better social life.

                The new knight is taking of his helmet. Whoops! Sorry. Her helmet. And that evil knight’s jaw just hit the floor.

                “Release your prisoner,” she demands.

                He is just laughing at her. Where is all that monologuing he was doing earlier?

                She looks at me and asks if I’m okay.

                My arms feel like they are going to fall off and I need a chamber pot. The snakes and toads under me are starting to get restless. If I struggle, I might fall in. “No! All month I keep getting kidnapped, eaten, and tricked! I’m sick of it! Why does this keep happening to me?”

                The evil knight is sneering at me. “Maybe it’s the way you dress?”

                The lady knight just unsheathed a sword and shouted. “That’s it! You die now!”

                The evil lord knight is doing the same. There is a lot of clanging. It’s not as exciting as I always thought a sword fight would be. I thought there would be back-flips and parrying. Where’s all the parrying? They just keep smacking the swords together and walking a few steps back in one direction.

                Another step. Another clang. Another step. Another clang. Yawn.

                Oh, I spoke too soon. The lady knight just ducked rather skillfully in that shiny armor and rammed her whole body into Sir Mole Hair’s torso. He did not see that coming, because he is down on the ground and . . . rolled right into the vat of toads and snakes. I didn’t know so many vipers would want to bite the same man at once. He’s getting all puffy and purple. He makes for a very ugly corpse.

                The lady knight carefully lowered me down. She really doesn’t seem too disconcerted by the bloated dead man so I guess I won’t bring it up.

                “Thanks.” I tell her while straightening my tunic and resting my arms.

                My gratitude surprises her. “You don't object to being rescued by a girl knight?”

                “Why would I? I'm being rescued. That's all that matters. I just wish you’d showed up earlier this month.”

                She’s blinking at me with the strangest expression. Maybe she’s starting at the scar on my neck. Should I tell her it’s the result of cuddles from a baby griffin? “You're not going to tell me to stop trying to take down the patriarchy?’

                “What’s patriarchy?”

                “It's a socioeconomic system designed by rich, white men meant to keep everyone else at a lower status.”

                “Did the patriarchy make me a peasant?”

                “Yes, feudalism is definitely a form of patriarchy.”

                I thought over her words long and hard. “Down with the patriarchy!”

                She sheaths her sword and collects her helmet. “Do you want to help me bring down the patriarchy?”

                “I don't know. I’m really tired. I just want to go home and lock my door.”
                “Do you at least want to help me throw rotten eggs that the lord sheriff’s house?”

                “Yeah, why not.”

                As she leads me from the dungeon, she turns and asks, “Not to be gross, but did you see the hair coming out of that guy’s mole?”

While I Digest

Hi there. I was recently devoured by a dragon. A huge dragon. Swallowed me whole.

Served me right too. I stepped on his tail.

The only problem with being eaten whole is the waiting. I’m currently sitting in a pool of stomach acids while I watch bits of knight float by. It’s really boring. The only reason why I can see anything is because of the pilot light in the dragon’s belly. At least now I finally know how they breathe fire.

As I sit here slowly allowing the juices to eat away at my tunic, I must stop to ponder at my life. I worked each day. I ate a great deal of porridge. I slept on a straw mattress (I may have been poor, but I was never sleep on a dirt floor poor). And I walked places . . . using my feet.

Huh. Peasant life really does not lend itself to a great deal of pre-death pondering.

Uh-oh. The dragon is opening his mouth again. I see a big, human shaped shadow coming down on me. Maybe I’ll have some company.

Never mind. It’s just half of a lord, a very portly lord. Even just his torso and head made a splash like you would not believe. He does not look like he was a particularly healthy fellow. Most likely full of starches. The dragon just released the most un-gentlemanly belch.

Now I’m getting bored again. I could sing. I wonder if I sing if people will be able to hear me from outside of the dragon? Would that draw a crowd?

This is starting to look grim and smell pretty awful. I think the dread is setting in. And all of the stomach tissues keep gurgling.

Gross! The large lord seems to be giving the dragon indigestion. Everything is churning and bubbling and—

Oh no! Not that! I just heard a thunderous sound which has shaken every muscle within this dragon and a portal has opened beneath me.

I have just realized what shall be worse than being eaten whole by a dragon — passing through the rest of the digestive track while still alive. I wish I had nose plugs.