HOT TIME IN THE HEN HOUSE

Hot Time in the Hen House.  A short funny story about a baby dragon. thunder, dragon, steel, fire, tracy, chickens, funny, wolf, short, stories, romance, laughter, love

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The chicken coop was on fire. Men came from everywhere, and buckets of water were raced to the source of the fire. Flaming chickens scattered throughout the farm, squawking, flapping, setting other things on fire, and adding to the general confusion.

As the fire was slowly forced back, our only casualty was old farmer George, who had been cornered by three fanatical burning chickens, determined to seek revenge for their coming incineration. They had managed to set him alight too, and he had begun to run around the farmyard, waving his arms and not sounding too dissimilar to the burning fowls. But he was finally doused with only minor burns and a badly damaged pride.

And there, right in the middle of the whole thing, partly hidden under a cremated chicken, sitting in it's broken, speckled egg shell, was the culprit.

A little red fire dragon, just hatched, and spouting fire everywhere. "Awwwwwwwww. Isn't he cute," Said Martha Williams, with a maternal smile. Until he turned to where the sound of her voice had come from, and a great spurt of flame singed her from head to toe.

That got rid of Martha. Pretty quickly too. Never seen the old girl move so quick. She hiked up her petticoats and hot footed it right out of there, smoke still streaming from her reduced hairline. Ran straight into the recovering farmer George, knocking him flat on his startled back, and showing him more from that position than he had ever wanted to see.

Finally the little dragon ran out of steam (or fire in this case), and the kids suddenly disappeared when I asked who had put a fire dragon egg under my best layer.

It started to squawk, wanting something to eat. Now, I've never been an authority on dragons, preferring to keep my distance, and I was at a loss what to feed it.

Someone called from outside ("A much safer place to be", I thought), what about chilli. Not on your Nelly. I wasn't going to stoke it up again, and judging the effects of chilli on me and the family, I could only imagine fire coming from both ends at the same time

After a lot of consideration, we decided on milk. This seemed to me like a good safe option. But after it melted the first three bottles, we gave that up. Tried meat after that. Had plenty of cooked chickens floating around anyway.

This idea seemed to please it, and after it gulped the first two down it began to purr like a cat. Wonderful sound. Purring dragons are reputed never to roast the hand that feeds them. Which happened to be my hand, as all of my well paid workers seemed to be suddenly struck deaf when I asked for volunteers. There would be a clause about dragons in their next contract.

But what to do with this little trouble maker. He was a little too hot to handle, literally!

A woman's voice that I didn't recognise came from outside. "Maybe I could offer a suggestion, good sir?" I turned to look and my eyes opened wide as saucers. There in front of me was the largest dragon I had ever seen. It filled the double doorway of the barn, and it spoke.

Somewhere in the distance I could hear the rapidly retreating footsteps of my neighbours and farm hands. I wished I was a rapid retreater too, instead of standing here looking just like an appetiser.

She said to me in the sweetest voice she could manage, even though the force of it blew my hat flat against the far wall. "Maybe I could take my baby home with me sir?"

My mouth hit the floor, without my body hitting there first. I stuttered, and stammered, and did not manage to get a single sensible word out. Which is not surprising with a dragon whispering in your face with all the subtelty of a force 9 gale.

With tears in her eyes, she said sorrowfully, "Unless you will not part with him Sir. I can see why, you might want him so much. He got rid of that ugly bird that insisted on sitting on his head. Chased away a few of the nuisances running around your farm, putting out all those pretty fires, and he is such a hot little man."

"I couldn't take him from his mother." I cried at the top of my voice (Shouting seemed the only way to talk to someone whos voice made the barn walls throb in and out at about the same speed as my heart.) "Much as I admire him, I will have to let him go with much saddness in my heart." I lied as fast as my mind could come up with the words.

And the last I saw of them was a gigantic rear end, as they both flew into the distant mountains. Mother with baby safely held in her teeth.

Now I had something very important to fix.

Kids, where are you??? Come to your loving Daddy. Wonder if they saw me pick up that stick?

Written and designed by Thunder & Steel


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