Chapter Six
Dr. Dragonbreath’s Rules

In case you’ve been thinking that nothing all that scary has happened yet, I am now going to take you back to the first day of school. I didn’t want to tell you about Dr. Dragonbreath at the beginning of the book because it may well have scared you off far too soon. But now that you understand how Scary School works and because you’ve proven yourself to be very brave by reading this far, I think you’re ready to hear about what happened on the first day of school in Dr. Dragonbreath’s class.

At 8:00 a.m. on the first day, there were thirty kids in Dr. Dragonbreath’s class.

At 8:12 a.m. on the first day, there were only two kids in Dr. Dragonbreath’s class.

Principal Headcrusher was familiar with Dr. Dragonbreath’s unusual teaching method, which tended not to support the more common notion that students should stay alive during class. Thus, Principal Headcrusher did not place any of the prized Scary kids in his class.

All thirty kids were in the classroom five minutes before class started. Some were nervous. Some were very nervous. Some were acting cool and relaxed, as if they didn’t believe the horrible stories they had heard about Dr. Dragonbreath. A few were even misbehaving already, throwing spitballs and chasing one another around the room. Those ones definitely didn’t believe the stories.

At precisely 8:00 a.m., Dr. Dragonbreath entered the classroom.

All loud noises and whispers turned to dead quiet.

Dr. Dragonbreath’s name did not just describe his foul breath. He was, in fact, a nine-foot-tall dragon and he was all business. He walked upright on two thick legs and had strong arms with six-inch razor-sharp claws on each hand. He wore a perfectly ironed suit and tie over his green dragon scales, and wore thick black glasses on top of his long dragon snout. He never smiled, but when he spoke, it was clear that his teeth were designed for only one thing—eating fresh meat.

“Be seated,” Dr. Dragonbreath said matter-of-factly, with the voice of an educated young scholar instead of a fearsome dragon.

The two kids who had frozen in place while running around the room quickly returned to their seats. Dr. Dragonbreath set down a black briefcase on his desk and addressed the class.

“Hello, I am Dr. Dragonbreath. I have a PhD in dragon history and lore, not medicine, so don’t ask me to cure your sniffles unless you have no interest in keeping your various appendages.”

The students’ mouths hung open in silence.

“As you may have heard, many students have not survived my class in the past, but I sincerely hope that things will be different with you. All you have to do to survive is follow a very simple list of rules called ‘Dr. Dragonbreath’s Rules.’ If you disobey any of the rules, the consequences will be immediate and fatal.”

The kids looked at one another and gulped.

“Ah, see!” growled Dr. Dragonbreath. “Most of you just broke one of the rules by taking your attention off of me and looking at each other. But, since you didn’t know that rule yet, you will be forgiven this one time. You see, I’m tough, but fair. These, my young pupils, are Dr. Dragonbreath’s Rules.”

Dr. Dragonbreath pulled a large scroll of paper down from the ceiling. On it was written a list of five rules in dark red ink that may very well have been blood.

“These are the five rules of my class, numbered one through five. The order of the rules does not indicate the importance of one rule over another, as failure to follow any of the rules will be equally catastrophic for you.”

The kids gulped again, but kept staring straight ahead.

Dr. Dragonbreath continued, “As I point to each rule, please read that rule quietly to yourself.” Dr. Dragonbreath extended one of his razor-sharp claws and pointed to . . .

RULE NUMBER ONE. ALWAYS RAISE YOUR HAND BEFORE SPEAKING.

“Simple enough, right? I’m sure that’s been a rule in all of your classes.”

Cindy Chan, one of the nervous kids, raised her hand.

“Look, everyone! Someone is already using Rule Number One. Excellent work,” said Dr. Dragonbreath. “You may speak.”

Cindy was so nervous that she stammered as she spoke, which worsened her already significant speech impediment. “Dr. . . . Dr. . . . Dr. . . . Dwag . . . Dr. Dwagonbweff, I for . . . forgot my gwasses at home and I . . . I . . . I can’t wead the w-w-wules.”

Dr. Dragonbreath replied, “That’s understandable, young human. I know these things happen due to your species’s brain not working well at times. Rule Number One is, ‘Always raise your hand before speaking.’ You followed that rule instinctively. Very impressive. Please just listen as I read the rules aloud to you from this point forward.”

“‘Rule Number Two. No gum chewing in class.’ Again, a very common rule, yes?”

Randall, one of the kids who was running around before class, froze in place as he realized he was chewing gum at that moment. He very sneakily placed his hand over his mouth and took the gum out to put in his pocket. But just then, Dr. Dragonbreath stopped what he was doing and started sniffing the air. He looked directly at Randall, and his forked tongue shot out of his mouth twenty feet across the room.

His tongue snatched the gum right out of Randall’s hand! Dr. Dragonbreath chomped on the gum for a few seconds before blowing an enormous bubble filled with dragon breath. Dragon breath is a combination of air and fire, so when he spit out the bubble, it floated around the room like a glowing hot-air balloon.

The kids gaped in awe. When the bubble floated back to him, Dr. Dragonbreath popped it with his claw, and it exploded in a marvelous ball of fire before vanishing. The kids cried, “Hurrah!” and cheered their hearts out.

“Thank you,” said Dr. Dragonbreath, taking a bow. “See, just because there are strict rules, that doesn’t mean class can’t be fun. And fear not, Randall. You did not know that rule before you were chewing, so you are excused this one time. I’m tough, but fair.

“‘Rule Number Three. Your full attention must be given to Dr. Dragonbreath or to the work at hand at all times.’ Again, no different from your other classes, only here, the consequences are far more severe. Earlier, when you turned your heads away from me and looked at one another, you were not giving me your full attention, and thus were breaking Rule Number Three.”

All the kids kept their necks perfectly straight and did not move an inch.

“‘Rule Number Four. Cartwheels, backflips, front flips, or incredible gymnastic routines of any kind are not allowed during class.’”

The class stared at Dr. Dragonbreath in silence, a bit confused. Was this a problem in his previous classes? they were all thinking.

“That rule is what you humans call a ‘joke.’ It is there for the sole purpose of making you laugh,” said Dr. Dragonbreath, still not smiling. “You see, I wouldn’t expect any of you to actually do a gymnastic routine during class. For one thing, there isn’t enough space with all the desks.”

No one was laughing.

“I suppose I’ll never understand human humor,” he grumbled. “Lastly is Rule Number Five. Now, I must warn you, this is the rule that my students always seem to have the most trouble following, which inevitably leads to their demise. Does anyone have any last words?”

No one spoke, for fear of breaking Rule Number One.

“Excellent job, class!” proclaimed Dr. Dragonbreath. “I thought for sure someone would break Rule Number One. I am indeed impressed. So, without any further ado, I give you . . . Rule Number Five.”

Dr. Dragonbreath pointed to Rule Number Five without saying a word. Almost all of the students followed his claw and instinctively read the rule to themselves. Here is what it said:

RULE NUMBER FIVE. THIS IS THE FORBIDDEN RULE. NO STUDENT IS ALLOWED TO READ THIS SENTENCE.

With his keen dragon eyes enhanced all the more by his magical dragon glasses, Dr. Dragonbreath took mental note of every single student who was reading Rule Number Five and therefore breaking Rule Number Five.

After reading the rule, all the students looked up at Dr. Dragonbreath nervously. He took off his glasses, loosened his tie, and smiled for the first time.

“Oh, you poor things. I had such high hopes for you.”

With amazing dragon speed, Dr. Dragonbreath flew around the room and devoured every single student who had broken Rule Number Five.

After being eaten by Dr. Dragonbreath, every kid in his class learned a very important life lesson about following rules and an even more important lesson about not trusting dragons that wear suits. But you’ll have to read on to find out why being eaten by Dr. Dragonbreath may have actually been the best thing that could have happened to each kid.

When Dr. Dragonbreath had finished eating his class, there was only one student left alive—Cindy Chan, who had forgotten her glasses and had not been able to read Rule Number Five. She was shaking in her seat.

Dr. Dragonbreath plopped down in a chair behind his desk. “What a meal,” he said, rubbing his belly. “I won’t need to feed again for a year after that one.”

Cindy was still frozen and shaking.

“Relax, young human. You were the only one who followed Rule Number Five, so you are perfectly safe. Now, let’s not waste any more time in beginning with our lesson. Please open your notebook and take notes as I lecture on the Dragon-Human Wars of 1512.”

Cindy Chan diligently took notes as she listened to Dr. Dragonbreath’s fascinating lecture on the Dragon-Human Wars. His lecture was very entertaining and she learned a great deal. He was by far the best teacher Cindy had ever had. She thought it was such a shame that none of the other kids were left to learn from him, too.

Right before lunch, the classroom door opened and a new kid walked in. It was Charles Nukid.

“Hi, I’m Charles Nukid. I was in detention until just now.”

“Luckily for you,” said Dr. Dragonbreath, “being late for my class is not a rule punishable by death.”

“Thank goodness,” said Charles. “I’d hate to break any rule. Apparently I was out of uniform, so Nurse Hairymoles brought me some kid named Benny Porter’s clothes who didn’t need them anymore. Just in time, too, ’cause Mrs. T was about to eat me.”

“I didn’t ask for your life story,” Dr. Dragonbreath interjected. “Please be seated and read my class rules.”

Charles sat down and read the first four rules to himself. Dr. Dragonbreath waited hungrily for him to read Rule Number Five, but Charles never did.

“Aren’t you going to read Rule Number Five?” Dr. Dragonbreath inquired.

“Of course not! That’s against the rules.”

“But . . . how did you know?”

“A ghost named Derek told me as I was walking here from detention.”

“I see. Derek the Ghost must like you. You’re very lucky.”

That afternoon, twenty-nine sets of angry parents stormed into Principal Headcrusher’s office.

Randall’s dad barked, “I knew his chances of survival weren’t good, but on the first day? Come on!”

“Listen,” said Principal Headcrusher, “if your child was eaten, it’s because he or she directly disobeyed one of Dr. Dragonbreath’s very simple rules. You all signed the waiver forms. There’s nothing I can do about it!”

The parents weren’t satisfied and continued pressing her for answers. Finally, Principal Headcrusher said, “Look, there are billions and billions of kids in the world, but dragons are nearly extinct. The truth is, this is the secret way in which dragons are made. All of the kids Dr. Dragonbreath ate today aren’t actually dead. They’re just gestating in his belly, like a caterpillar inside a cocoon. In about nine months, right about when the Ghoul Games will be starting, Dr. Dragonbreath will regurgitate all of your children, and they will come out metamorphosed into young dragons.”

“Wait a minute,” said Randall’s dad, trembling with emotion. “You’re telling me that my Randall, my one and only boy, was eaten alive but isn’t actually dead, and will come back in nine months changed into a dragon?”

“Yes.”

“. . . Cool!”