Dragonslayers And Their Pathetic Ways by Evan Dixon

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SUMMARY: A humorous account from a dragon's point of view on dragonslayers and his encounter with one.

So there I was, minding my own business. It was a clouded Febuary day, rainy and boring, with absolutely nothing to do. All the sheep of the nearby village had been pinned up somewhere because of me, so no more fried mutton to eat. Besides, I felt way too lazy to go get something to eat anyway, what with the cold rain and all. So I just sat there, in my cave, with a savage impatience, waiting for some sunshine.
And then he came.
It was pretty sudden, really. You would think that some human idiot wouldn't try to come and bother me on a day like this, but in he comes, watching out for any movement. The idiot must have been blind! there I was, curled up in the shadows, as big as any other dragon. Well, he must have needed some glasses or something, because he saw nothing. I almost laughed, but I knew that would give away my position.
The young man really would have looked startling to any other dragon, if they didn't have the since to not take these dragonslayers seriously. He was clad in shiny silver armor from head to foot, with a large green wooden shield and a spear that gleamed mysteriously in the light within the cave. He looked around cautiously, an air of arrogance and total seriousness within his character.
That's when I decided to get rid of him. Slowly, but surely, I formed within my throat a spout of molten fire; as soon as it hit him, dinner would be ready. But apparently, I must have coughed or something, because the moron looked over and saw me in the corner, crouching there, the inside of my throat glowing with flame.
"Die, foul beast!" He cried with a wimpy English accent, hurling his spear towards my throat.
If I ever teach a dragonslayer class for humans (which I would never do), the number one thing I would tell them all is you never hurl a spear at a dragon's throat. Not only do we all have lightning-fast reflexes, but if there's fire in our throats, then it will melt on the spot.
So I grabbed the spear, instantly crushing it in my large claws. The human looked slightly nervous that his plan failed, but nonetheless arrogance still filled his aura. Without further ado I spewed my fire towards him; he leaped behind a boulder as a large cloud of flame foremd on the cave floor. With one mighty swipe I hit the boulder, which exploded into at least a thousand shards of stone. By that time, the human had already drawn out his pathetic steel blade, which he slashed at me with assanine fervor.
Enough foolery, I told myself. Get it over with. I shot more flames. He avoided them again. My anger rising, I tried to corner him, only to recieve a sharp stab in my right forehand. Okay, so the sword really isn't that wimpy, I told myself with gritted fangs.
For intimidation's sake, I spread my wings, prepared to ensnare my enemy. What did he do about that? The idiot ran out of the cave!
Well, I wasn't about to let my new friend get away. That would be an insult to my name. So I leaped out of the entrance to the cave, into the cold rain, which felt like frozen needles on my sensitive wings.