|He does have a childlike quality, tho|
Personally, or I should say, dragon-ally, since I'm a dragon, not a person, I like the modern age. When you're an immortal, you'd better be able to adapt or you become a fossil, and I've seen enough of my forebears hanging around museums, shells of their former selves, to convince me to keep up with the times.
Sure, modern living has its drawbacks. I hate that bootlicking, politically-correct sellout Barney, the purple jerk. And when someone tells my chronicler and portraitist that I have a "childlike, storybook vibe," I long to sweep down on that someone's village, breathing fire and ruin, rejoicing as the half-starved peasants flee and curse my name through charred lips with their last breaths as I cast them, screaming, into the outer darkness, I'll show them a childlike, storybook vibe. But things like that aren't done anymore. Not by dragons who don't want to a Tomohawk-missile suppository, they aren't. Don't mess with the U.S.
Yes, modern living has its drawbacks, but I've landed a good gig. My main job is championing a thirty year old warrior named Troy in a game called Dungeons and Dragons. I gather the dragons together, Troy musters his warrior guild, and we play in Troy's parents' dungeon, also known as the basement where Troy lives. Oops, gotta run. My second job is calling. There's a maiden in some backwoods Podunk Hicksville dump I need to devour. I'm scheduling extra time because I have to generate an electromagnetic pulse to knock out the electronics in the area before I get started. You never know which pitchfork-wielding Neanderthal has a cellphone with a camera, and I can't afford to wind up on YouTube.
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If you liked this story, you might like The Dragon with the Girl Tattoo, my bitterly sarcastic but humorous parody of the execrable novel by Stieg Larsson Pin It Now!