The Administrator (18 page)

“I had a bulldog once. Toughest, stringiest hide I ever ate. Never heard of a pina ... pina—”

“Colada. It’s a drink. A little pineapple, a little rum and a whole lot of taste. Colorado Bulldog’s a drink too. Kahlua, that’s like chocolate, and cream and vodka. Good stuff, Sir, and the cream’s just what a sensitive stomach ordered. I run the pub down in the village. No one can mix a Bulldog like I can. No one.”

“So what?”

“So, fresh bagels and cream cheese, pretzels, pineapple and cream—what could be better for your stomach? And I guarantee it’ll taste better than any pablum-pure virgin would.”

The dragon shook his head and blew smoke rings from his nose. “Oh, I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Jolene reached inside the folds of her skirt, found the pocket and retrieved a foil wrapped bundle. “Here. Just so happens that I have a fresh baked bagel smothered with cream cheese right here. I was saving it for my lunch, but you can have it.” She held it out to him.

Cautiously, he took it from her hand and sniffed it. His tongue lolled out and daintily licked at the creamy topping. He rolled his red, beady eyes Heavenward and said, “Delicious! I’ve never tasted anything like it. Do you have more?”

“Yep, all you can eat, down in the village.” Jolene’s eyes grew wide. “Wow! Think what this would do for the dairy industry. And the bagel and pretzel factory would have to hire a lot more people just to keep you in lunches. And the pineapple would have to be shipped in. And....” She stopped talking and mentally calculated how many shares of stock she could buy in the various industries. “Of course, we’d have to pay for all that stuff somehow.”

“I knew it,” the dragon growled. “There’s always a catch. Here you go and get my hopes all up, then BOOM, smash them into the ground. Enough. I’ll just eat you and forget it.” He wrapped his claws around her and snorted. Another smoke ring puffed from his nose and curled lazily upward.

“Wait!” she screamed. “Do that again.”

He halted with her plump body half way to his gaping mouth. “Do what?”

“That. That smoke thing. The rings from your nose. Can you do that all the time?”

“Huh? Sure, but....”

“Smoked hams. You could smoke ‘em, I could sell ‘em. And shows—you could be the star attraction—blowing rings and ... and rides—you could give people rides. You know, fly around a little with them on your back. We could charge ten, twenty bucks a head for a five minute ride. We’ll make a fortune!”

“Aw come on. Nobody’s gonna’ pay to see me. Humans are all scared of me ... well maybe except you.”

“That’s because you threaten to eat them all the time. If you promise not to gulp down the paying customers, it would work. Besides, you said you were lonely. You wouldn’t be if you had all those people around you all the time. And we could fix up your cave. You know, a little paint and plaster. Maybe a window or two so it wouldn’t be so dark and damp. Think about it, Sir Drag ... uh, what is your name by the way? If we’re gonna be partners, I can’t keep calling you Sir Dragon.”

“Well, my mamma always called me ‘Hey You.’ She called us all that. Said she wouldn’t get confused that way.”

“Hey You? No. That won’t do at all.” She thought a minute. “I know. We’ll call you Joe. Joe Dragon. I always liked that name. My third husband’s name was Joe. Or was it my fourth? Anyway, I liked him better than the others. Then he had to go and get himself squashed under a wine cask.”

“Hmm. Joe. Joe Dragon.” He scratched his muzzle with a claw. “I like that.”

“Yeah. We could make signs. You know, RIDE JOE DRAGON. ONLY TEN DOLLARS.”

“And I get all the bagels and cream cheese I want?”

“All you want. And all the other goodies too. No more indigestion. Come on. Let’s go down to the village. I can’t wait to get started.”

“But what about the other humans down there. Won’t they be scared?”

“Sure, but they’ll get over it when they see how rich we’ll all be. And they’ll be relieved that they don’t have to find any more virgins. Vanishing breed, virgins. Scarce as hen’s teeth these days.” She grabbed the tip of his scaly wing and steered him toward the path. “Come on. Time’s a wastin’. I’m not getting any younger, you know. Can’t stand around here all day gabbing. Now, don’t be a-draggin’ your tail. I’ve got an empire to build.”

He thumped his massive tail and followed her obediently. “Oh, by the way,” he said. “Did I tell you that I like your earrings?”

“Why thanks, Joe. I bought them in France on one of my honeymoons. My fourth. Or maybe it was my sixth. Or maybe—”

He flexed his wings and pounded his tail on the ground. “Okay, already. Sorry I mentioned it.” He rubbed his rumbling stomach with the tip of his tail and mumbled, “Let’s go get those bagels.” Then he sighed, “No virgins, indeed. What’s this world coming to?”

“Oh I don’t know,” She answered, tugging on his outstretched wing and leading him to the path. “That virginity thing’s not everything it’s cracked up to be anyway.”

— THE END —

S. Joan Popek is an award winning author who lives in New Mexico with her husband and assorted cats and dogs.  When she isn't writing, she is a part time tutor for Creative Writing at the
Creative Writing Institute
. www.sjoanpopek.com