Dragon at the Table

The dragon has got to go, and it's up to me to kill it. But the question is how?

Camelot hasn't been the same since that dragon flapped in on a thermal and squatted. It seems to have gotten its claws into everything. No business can be transacted without the dragon taking its cut. You can't even travel without its permission. A person can barely go to the john without the dragon's involvement.

I wanted to discuss the Dragon Problem at the Round Table, but even it is not immune from draconian influence. Some pretty scaly looking knights have been showing up there recently, I can tell you. So I decided to buttonhole ... or breastplate ... my two most trusted friends, Lancelot and Gawain.

"Look, we've got to do something about that dragon," I said urgently.

"You talking about the d ... r ... a ... g ... o ... n?" asked Lancelot, sotto voce.

"What are you whispering for?" I replied, rather loudly.

"Shhh!" whispered Gawain. "You wouldn't want the d ... r ... a ... g ... o ... n to overhear you."

"What's with the spelling?" I was getting a little angry, but I did lower my voice to make them happy.

"We, uh, don't think it can," said Lancelot.

"Spell, that is," explained Gawain.

"Never mind that!" I shouted. "We have to kill it!"

"Shhh!" repeated both my friends.

"We couldn't agree with you more," said Lancelot.

"But when you say 'we have to kill it,' exactly whom did you have in mind?" continued Gawain.

"Why, ... us!" I replied. "We, the knights of the Round Table!"

"I'd be right with you," said Gawain, "but my armor urgently needs polishing."

"When?" I asked. "Specifically."

"When do you plan this ... undertaking?" he replied. "And I do use the term 'undertaking' advisedly."

"Oh, come on!" I chided him. "A brave knight of the Round Table? But surely Lancelot will join me!"

"Well, here's the thing," said Lancelot slowly. "I'm getting close to retirement, and I don't want to jeopardize the pension. Not to mention my life."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing!" I puffed incredulously. "From the greatest of Arthur's knights?"

"Don't get me wrong," said Lancelot placatingly. "I'm on your side. I think you absolutely shoud do ... that thingy. That you mentioned. Involving the ... you-know-what. And I will gladly advise you ... assuming that I can maintain my plausible deniability."

"Oh, me, too!" chorused Gawain.

"Right!" I huffed. "I'm off to slay the dragon, then!"

"Um, just one minute," cautioned Lancelot, placing a restraining hand on my elbow. "Don't forget the d ... r ... a ... g ... o ... n's fiery breath. You're going to need special flame-retardant armor."

"Oh, all right." I could see the wisdom of that. "So I'll just pop over to the armorer's and get some."

"Not that simple, I'm afraid," said Gawain. "There's only one purveyor of dragon-resistant armor in the kingdom."

"Fine," I replied. "I'll go to that person, then. Um, who is it?"

"The d ... r ... a ... g ... o ... n, I'm afraid," Gawain answered sympathetically.

Now, that nonplussed me for a moment. But then I figured, what the heck? It doesn't have to know what dragon it's for, or even if it's for any dragon at all. I might just be preparing for firejousting. Whatever that might be. There was actually a very fine irony in that: slain by the product of your own greed, eh?

So off I went to visit the dragon. Or the d ... r ... a ... g ... o ... n, as my stalwart friends would say.

"Ah, Sir Galahad! How good of you to visit my humble nest!" the dragon greeted me affably. "Just shove some gold out of the way and sit down anywhere."

"Greetings, d ... r ..., er, dragon," I replied, returning joviality for joviality, I hoped. "I'm here on business. I understand you stock flame-retardant armor, and I would like to buy a suit."

"Not planning on slaying any dragons I know, are you? Ha, ha!" it gurgled sulphurously.

"Oh, ah, no, no. Ha, ha," I returned. "Just planning on some firejousting."

"Yes, yes, that's what I thought," said the dragon. "Whatever firejousting is."

"So how much do I owe you for the armor?" I asked, eager to get the transaction done with.

"Hmm," mused the dragon. "I don't think you'd be able to afford the price on a knight's salary. If I were to charge you full whack, that is. But since you're a favorite of mine, I'm just going to give it to you. All I ask in return is one tiny little favor."

"And what would that be?" I asked apprehensively. My internal early warning system was blaring like mad.

"Not much at all," said the dragon off-handedly. Off-pawedly. "I would just like to keep abreast of the Round Table doings, and since I know you have a seat there, I was wondering if you could just send me, like, minutes of the meetings. You know, what was discussed, decisions taken, action items. That's all."

Well, that didn't sound so terrible, and I was probably going to off the beast before the next meeting anyway, so I agreed and returned home with my flame-retardant armor.

"What do you think?" I asked Lance and Gawain, showing off my shiny new armor.

They hemmed and hawed appreciatively.

"So I'm off to slay the dragon!" I said.

"Um, not so fast," said Lancelot. "You may have your d ... r ... a ... g ... o ... n-proof armor, but how are you planning to penetrate its impenetrable scales? Your standard-issue sword will be pulverized by the d ... r ... a ... g ... o ... n's own natural armor. You need a magic, d ... r ... a ... g ... o ... n-piercing sword,"

"Fine," I replied. "Where do I get that?"

"There's only one place," replied Gawain with the inevitability of doom, "and I think you can guess where that is."

So it was back to see the dragon.

"Sir Galahad!" beamed the dragon. "What an unexpected pleasure! And so soon after your last visit! I was just reading your Round Table Report here. Fascinating stuff! Is there anything I can do for you?"

"So what I'm looking for," I stammered uncertainly, "is a magic sword that will pierce, well, er, anything. Do you have anything like that? I've been, er, hearing about the latest in Black Knight armaments, and I want to be ready for whatever they might throw at me."

"Yes, of course," smiled the dragon soothingly. "I think I have just the thing here. Now, once again, it's pretty pricey..."

The dragon frowned doubtfully for a moment before brightening sunnily.

"Ah, what the heck!" it said. "You're my friend. I can't deny you anything. So here's the deal. You can have the magic sword gratis."

I was speechless.

"That means 'free,'" continued the dragon, apparently mistaking my lack of verbal response. "And I'd just like to ask one teensy-weensy favor of you."

My internal early system was ginning up for a blast.

"I see in your Round Table Report," continued the dragon, "that a vote to discontinue virgin sacrifices is coming up next time. If you could just get that tabled for now, I think that would be a service to everyone. I have no stake in that one way or another, you understand. The knights need more time to get their facts straight on a complicated issue like that."

Since I was planning to dispatch, with extreme prejudice, the recipient of those sacrifices before the next meeting, I agreed.

So it was back to Lance and Gawain to show off my new magic sword.

"Very impressive," they agreed. "Slaughter in health."

"Ok, now, I'm going after that dragon!" I vowed.

"Oh, just one more thing!" interjected Lance.

"What is it this time?" I asked suspiciously.

"Don't forget," said Lance, "that the dragon can fly. You can have all the flame-retardant armor and magic swords in the world, but the d ... r ... a ... g ... o ... n is just going to fly rings around you, while you flail impotently."

"And what am I supposed to do about that?" I prompted helpfully.

"You need magic wings," replied Gawain.

"Which I can get ...?"

"Right," replied Lancelot. "At the dragon's."

All right, then. Once more into the breech. The dragon was positively ecstatic to see me.

"Galahad, my boy!" it cried. "So good to see you! Great work on the virgin sacrifice issue. What can I do for you today?"

"It s-seems," I stuttered, "that I n-need a s-set of m-magic w-wings. B-black knights, and all that."

"I do have the item you seek in stock," said the dragon. "Extremely expensive, of course, but what's price between you and me, eh? I'll give you the wings, if you could just use them, in addition to defending against black knights, to occasionally patrol the realm for me. To track down enemies, keep an eye on rivals. That sort of thing. Almost identical to your black knight prevention duties."

Well, thought I, it won't be long now until the reckoning, so I agreed.

Back to Lance and Gawain.

"So," I said, modeling all my dragon-fighting gear, "do you think I look ready to take on the dragon?"

"Take on the d ... r ... a ... g ... o ... n?" they spelled in unison. "You are the d ... r ... a ... g ... o ... n!"

This is how we are trying to get money out of politics.