The Dragon Butler

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. But they've certainly been there long enough. Every morning I wake up to the smell of burnt eggs and charred sausage. Then I follow the sulfuric stench to the kitchen where I am expected to hungrily eat with no regard for how my taste buds may feel about the whole situation. Despite swearing that the food is edible however, the dragon is "coincidentally" not hungry when it is being served. And then of course there's the little detail of my rooftop getting set on fire almost daily--and just so you know, our roofs are made of clay and straw so it's like a whole blanket of kindling waiting to be engulfed in flames. And dragons are kind of known for their fiery breaths. It's not like once you give them a job they suddenly stop being living conflagrations. Have you ever seen a dragon with hiccups? Telling them to just hold their breath isn't enough and it's almost impossible to scare one! I guess what I'm trying to say is that having a dragon butler has its ups and downs.

The ups are usually when my parents give me a quest to fulfill.. by getting milk from the bazaar two streets down. Which is still a quest and worthy of a dragon accompaniment. The literal ups are when we're sailing through the sky at unheard of speeds breaking though the clouds. The downs however, well, let's just say you better have been holding onto the dragon's mane tightly because when they spot a mouse or tiny dog without warning they drop down and tumble through the air so suddenly that you're liable to fall off.

When the idea of using dragons as a proto-airplane was suggested, there was considerable backslash at first, mainly because no one knew what an airplane was. It was decided that the safest way to ride would be to equip all dragons with seatbelts. Unfortunately, the dragons had some hang-ups about them, chiefly that they felt we didn't trust them enough which is apparently a huge insult in their society. I think only a couple dozen people have fallen to their deaths but literal minutes have been taken off everyone's morning commute so it's not really a huge deal. Still, I mostly choose to walk whenever it's not very far. Anything over a day or two though and I will usually just pay for a dragon and pray to whatever gods we believe in.

But I think the worst part of this whole arrangement is that I've been forced to give up on my dream of having a dragon butler because while I can overlook the house fires, burnt breakfasts, and occasional falling deaths one thing still bothers me. Dragons.. well, they still haven't learned how to properly use toilets. I understand that where dragons came from initially a toilet was not necessary as their whole land was one big toilet. You know how when horses have to 'go' they just relieve themselves wherever they are? A horse will be galloping down one of our primitive dirt paths that we quaintly refer to as 'streets' and just randomly decide to leave a huge pile of, well you know, all over the ground. You need a shovel and a dedicated poopsmith to follow behind and scoop it all up.

Now, if you will, try to imagine a horse with wings and like fifty times the size and it's just flitting around several miles above your head. You will just be walking along a dirt sidewalk minding your own business, possibly thinking about what's for dinner tonight, when suddenly your entire world becomes a huge, brown, steaming pile of.. well, you know. And God grant you mercy if you were in mid-yawn at the time. Still, only a few smaller pets..and some children..have ever died under the weight. Even so people have now taken to carrying umbrellas with them--as if those would save them! There is now a division of the royal guards dedicated to the cleanup of these little "accidents." I won't say anything else about them save to say that they have to use industrial-strength shovels. Still, local farmers are generally happy for the free manure. Incidentally, I no longer eat vegetables.

Anyhow, I'm getting ahead of myself as you probably want to know how dragons even came to be our butlers! Well, it isn't a story for those with a weak stomach mainly because it involves huge piles of.. you know. I've already lost about fifteen pounds just from all the vomiting--so I guess it's not all bad. Still, the smell is almost impossible to get out of your tunic.. and hair. So join me and my stinky friends around the campfire as we retell the story of how we gained dominion over these legendary beasts.