CHAPTER 12

eanwhile, there was trouble in the Dragon-Slayer’s camp.

“You promised me I was going to be a hero,” Perry Pleaser whined.

“Don’t worry. They’ll be putting up statues in your honor once we catch them,” Wacko said.

Yes, said the yes men, and yes, said the yes women, too.

“But what if they escape?” Perry Pleaser asked.

“They can’t escape. We’re hot on their trail. All we have to do is follow the ruined fields of potatoes and wheat and onions and we’re bound to catch up with them. Maybe tomorrow.”

But the next morning there was another problem.

“I’ve been reading up on Saint George,” Perry Pleaser said. “If he had a sword, why can’t I have one?”

“Attacking as large a dragon as Dippy with a crummy old sword would be about as effective as pricking your finger with a pin,” Wacko replied.

Perry Pleaser leaped back from him. “Don’t you dare try it, you bully. I have very sensitive skin. And besides, I still think I deserve a sword. So there!”

“Look, Pleaser, Saint George would have given his right arm for the kind of dragon-slaying force you command. Tanks and helicopters and heat-seeking missiles and cannons and bombers. We’re going to blast that dippy Diplodocus to kingdom come!”

“What if we kill Jacob Two-Two in the attack?”

“Then we’ll give him a military funeral. All the trimmings. You’ll look just great weeping over him on TV.”

Yes, said the yes men, and yes, said the yes women, too.

“Couldn’t it make me … unpopular?”

“Think again, Pleaser. Do kids have a vote?”

“No, but their parents do. Why, I have two kids myself.”

“Yeah, and what good are they? Tell me, Pleaser, if you come home from an exhausting trip, what is the first thing they ask you?”

“Did I bring them a present.”

“And if you bundle them into all their winter clothing and boots and scarves, because they just have to play in the snow, what happens five minutes later?”

“They want to come in for a pee.”

“Let’s face it, Pleaser, kids aren’t like you or me. They’re childish. Why, you put two of them in a room and before you know it they’re biting and pinching and scratching each other.”

“Weren’t you ever a child, Wacko?”

“Yes, but things were different then. I was perfect.” “So was I.”

“But I was more perfect than you were,” Wacko said, kicking Perry Pleaser in the shin.

“No, you weren’t,” Pleaser said, kicking him back harder.

“Oh, yes I was too,” Wacko said, pinching him.

“Oh, no you weren’t,” Pleaser insisted, spitting at him.

In an instant they were rolling over and over in the dirt, pinching and scratching and biting. Two generals had to separate them.

“Who started this?” one of the generals asked.

“He did,” Perry Pleaser whined between sobs.

“Liar! You did!”

“Sez who, shorty?”

“Sez me, mutton-head!”

“This has got to stop,” the general pleaded. “You are setting a bad example for the troops. Save your fire for the dragon, gentlemen.”

“Yes,” Wacko said. “And that dreadful Jacob Two-Two, too. Because this is war and he will just have to take his chances.”