A band of merry travellers were walking to Antarctica for purposes of invasion one windy Wednesday afternoon. Included in this group was the Quest Committee, who were not accustomed to embarking on missions with such questionable political goals; but tagged along anyway to support their friend Babe Listowel.
But what was this? An obstacle? An ocean appeared to be between the travellers and their goal. Babe Listowel consulted his map again. After staring at it for several minutes, he turned it over. This revealed the side of the paper that wasn’t blank. Seeing his error, he apologised to the group for his mistake and the ensuing inconvenience,
Twelve-Anne Stradivari, always the optimist of the group, suggested they use the rope bridge that conveniently stood before them. No sooner, and not all that much later, had she made this suggestion than the group accepted it.
“Can it support our weight and (unintelligible)?” Sylvester Denny asked.
Estimating that the group weighed about 2060 kg, Alasdair Braveheart dropped a lead pipe of comparable weight onto the bridge. It did not sway. Sylvester Denny was still unsure of the bridge’s integrity.
“Dawson and Babe, can you ply one of the planks with that crowbar in your hands to make sure they’re nailed in right?”
Dawson Filter and Babe Listowel complied, and the plank stayed firmly in place.
“How many times did you ply it?”
“Twice,” Dawson Filter replied.
Sylvester Denny joined them on the bridge, and was followed by all other parties present.
After a brief stroll, the adventurers saw the sky darken. A dragon approached them.
“(unintelligible),” the dragon roared in its native tongue. It descended onto the bridge. The bridge supported its weight.
Babe Listowel, whose time spent in Norway had taught him a number of basic phrases in the dragish language, attempted communication with the beast.
“Let us go. We cannot through; you are too existent.”
The dragon snorted.
“I hunger. (unintelligible). Meat is my desire. Guide me to fish, or let me feast upon your bones in the future. Or kill me in the future.”
Babe Listowel translated the interaction for the group, mistranslating the word for fish as “a silver needle in a seven-tonne titanium haystack.” Of the options presented, the group agreed that the one with the highest reward relative to the amount of work involved would be to kill the dragon.
“We opt to kill you!” Babe Listowel cried. The Scottish Heritage Foundation of Murderville gathered its weapons. In total, they had twelve longbows, a quarter-dozen bo staffs, a car bomb, and a battering ram. The Quest Committee supplied a sword from the future.
Several of the SHFoM attempted to sneak up in front of the beast with the battering ram, but the dragon had seen them with his eyes. It used its fire prowess to shoot flames from its western edge, temporarily blinding the battering group and igniting the bridge.
Aggie Oliver took out some of her own fire to attempt back burn the bridge. She set the fire behind the group, blocking off with flames the section of the bridge on which they stood.
The difference in temperature between the fire and not fire spun the nearby air into a whirlwind, which posed a bother for the dragon. The dragon, who disliked annoyances, flew away over the horizon. The fires burned through their respective portions of the bridge, creating a raft.
Fortunately, it was windy what with the tornado and the wind mentioned in the first sentence so the people got to survive and also be in Antarctica.