I have a zilch supply of inspiration for writing an original introduction. It just doesn't work out nicely. Someone either buy me 'introductions 101 writing course' or tell those introductions to start behaving themselves?
Basically, hello and welcome to part two of Lando Erif blowing up Dragon Island. I hope you're ready.
:: Part One ::
Running all the way across Dragon Island isn’t my idea of a leisurely morning.
Particularly with the knowledge the world could explode underneath at any moment.
Not that I'm complaining or anything.
Sir George wasn’t in his office when we door-crashed the place, which is quite probably a good thing. Chances were that if he had been we’d either have taken way too long to explain and he wouldn’t believe is and he’d kick us out, or he’d kick us out right away without bothering to listen and march us back to the Kitchen immediately.
Either way, we’d have all be doomed.
As it was, we were in luck. As much as that word can be used when the island is about to blow up. We ran straight to the back room and out luck ran out. I slammed straight into Thomas as he stopped suddenly gazing in horror at the disarray of control panels and appliances.
“How are we gonna do this in time?” I groaned as we began to frantic search for something that might be labelled ‘Dragon Lunch Bay Kitchen’, or might have no label at all.
The seconds seemed like hours; we tripped over boxes of nuts and bolts, pushing aside crates of metal scraps.
“We’ll be too late,” Titus despaired.
“Here!” Thomas yelled excitedly, his auburn head appearing over a stack of pipes.
Titus and I scrambled across the room. Thomas had opened the side of the backup control box – it was labelled ‘DLBK’ – and was fiddling with wires. Titus grabbed a screwdriver from a nearby box and joined him.
I craned my neck and looked out the dirty window. “Hey guys, I can see the smoke from here, now,” I warned.
The twins grunted and worked faster. I hopped on one foot, don’t blame me for being impatient, the world was about explode at any minute. I wanted to be doing something.
An important looking switchboard on the wall attracted my curiosity. A big, yellow button was right in the center of it. I stepped closer, tilting my head to one side. There was a piece of paper taped under the button, it read ‘DO NOT PRESS THIS BUTTON’ in big, red letters.
“What’s this do?” I asked, turning to the twins.
Yeah, maybe not the most helpful thing to say.
“No time,” Titus grunted around the tools in his mouth.
I looked from the button to the smoke to the twins and back to the button. I shrugged. “The world’s gonna explode anyway,” I murmured, and pressed it.
The lights turned off and the hum of electrical gadgets ceased. “I think I found the main power switch.”
Titus straightened and looked at me. “You just pressed the button with the sign saying not to press it?”
I nodded. “Um, yep.”
“Nice,” Thomas breathed. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“Me too,” Titus agreed.
“Shall we leave the repairs to the more experienced mechanics now?” I asked, grinning.
“I rather think that would be a good plan,” Thomas wiped his forehead with a grease coated hand, leaving a dark smear.
“Saving the world’s all very well, but sometimes I wish we had more time to plan,” Titus dusted his hands together.
“We’d better leave before Sir George comes back,” I remembered.
Both twins rolled their eyes. “You’re tellin’ me,” Titus said definitely.
We left the room in even more disarray than we’d found it in, and hurried out into Sir George’s office.
Just at the same moment that Sir George walked through the opposite door.
There was a silence for a long second and then Sir George advanced deliberately across the room. “Shouldn’t you been doing Lunch Duty?” he addressed the twins in a dangerously neutral voice.
“Well, you see, Sir—” both began but got no further.
“What are you doing in my office?” he roared.
“We—” I tried to explain but Sir George had completely lost it.
“If it is anything less than saving the entire universe, I will personally roast you all in the microwave and throw you in the Dragons Sleeping Quarters for a week!” he continued in a deafening bellow.
“Horrible in there,” Titus whispered. “He did that when Thomas and I accidentally pitted a Water Dragon and a Fire Dragon against each other. And that time it wasn’t even us who did do it.”
Thomas raised a cautious hand. “Well, Sir, you see...we kind of did save the world.”
“NOT GOOD ENOUGH!” Sir George loomed over the three of us. “That’s it! You are all on Lunch Duty for the next six months! Now OUT!”
We all ran for the door. It slammed shut behind us with a crash that could've been heard by a deaf old granny a dozen kilometers away.
“Lunch Duty?” Titus groaned. “But we only just got off that.”
I scratched my ear. “Next time, let’s leave the world to explode.”
“Agreed,” Thomas said.
We retraced our footsteps to the Lunch Bay Kitchen, much slower this time. When we reached the building most of the smoke had dissipated, although the hundred and twenty jars of vegemite smelt more like smoked ham than vegemite.
I tugged open the large window, to let some fresh air in. “I’m hoping we can wait for the mechanics to fix the Spreader?” I asked.
“Yeah, I dunno about you guys, but I definitely don’t fancy the idea of make a couple thousand sandwiches by hand,” Titus said.
I sat on the bench, swinging my legs. “What do we do with all the smoked bread?”
Thomas shrugged. “Eat it,” he suggested. “Something tells me that it might be wise not to go to lunch today.”
Titus pulled a vegemiteless slice out of the broken Spreader. He bit the corner off and grimaced. “As it is it tastes like burnt machinery,” he chewed the mouthful slowly. “It might be alright as toast, though.”
“If we had a toaster,” Thomas added.
“Toss me a piece?” I held out my hand. Titus obliged and I sniffed the slightly blackened slice. I screwed up my nose, Titus was right, it really reeked. I tried to blow off some of the black bits, but as I blew it only got darker. The pieces of bread that had been white turned a golden brown. I frowned a long moment before understanding dawned and I sank my teeth into the newly toasted bread.
“Quite nice actually,” I mumbled.
Thomas stared at the toast in my hand and then started to laugh. “How could I have forgotten. One would think that a Fire Breather was someone everyone had as a friend. We do have a toaster. The Lando toaster!” He handed me another slice. “Can I have some?”
I grinned and blew on his bread, toasting it with my breath and tossed it back to him. Very quickly I had a stack of bread to be made into toast. We leant against the bench and ate our private lunch of smoked and toasted Dragon Lunch.
I only had one or two accidents where I turned the bread into a pile of ashes when I became too excited and breathed fire on it.
Stuff happens, you know.
“This is the best lunch ever,” Thomas said, finishing his tenth piece.
I agreed, and would have said so, but for the fact that I had just attempted to fit a whole slice of toast into my mouth in one go.
Just a tip for everyone: if you put an entire piece of toast, or bread, in your mouth do not try to talk.
It won't work. Trust me on this one.
I started to laugh and a burst of flame shot into my mouth and turned my toast to ashes. I stopped laughing abruptly and ran for the sink.
Thomas and Titus were doubled over in silent laughter when I turned around, having drained three full cups of the cold rain water.
“Not funny,” I said, still pulling faces from the taste of charcoal that remained in my mouth.
“Oh yes. Not funny.” Both twins leapt to their feet and stopped laughing, faces dead serious for a full second before we all cracked into laughter
“We should do this every day,” Titus took another slice of toast from the pile. “Once we finish our ‘Automagic-Vegemite-Jar-Opener – with half a dozen special bonuses’ we’ll be able to sit back and relax half the morning.”
“Or maybe we’ll get a job of being the Island’s Inventors,” Thomas added. “I rather like that idea. We would ask never to be on Lunch Duty again and We’d call ourselves ‘The Talented Trio’, and—”
A loud snort interrupted Thomas’s wishful dreams.
I spun around to see a violet Dragon’s head right behind us. The black eyes blinked slowly, looking around the room. While we’d been enjoying ourselves so immensely, we’d failed to notice a small but curious – and probably hungry – Dragoness had come wandering up and stuck her head through the window and was now eyeing off the remaining smoked-bread-and-vegemite in the Spreader.
“Nice Dragoness,” Thomas murmured, backing away slowly. “There’s nothing in here that you would like.”
“Nothing except for bread and vegemite un-sandwiches,” Titus agreed. “Disgusting stuff really.”
The Dragoness bellowed loudly at the mention of vegemite, and pushed the window further open.
“Yikes!” I yelped, realising what was coming. I grabbed the twins and dragged them to the floor under the bench, just a moment before the Dragoness jumped through the window.
She landed, roaring, just centimeters away from my face and I jerked back sharply, my heart pounding. She swept her clawed hands in an arc, swiping at the Spreader.
I winced as the already broken machine shuddered and cracked under the blow.
The Dragoness began stuffing bread into her mouth, growling all the while. With each handful of bread, she splintered another part of the Spreader.
“Don’t break the tank,” I found myself muttering. “Please, don’t break the tank.”
Please don't blow us all into oblivion, if you don't mind.
Hours seemed to pass as she devoured her lunch and I had almost made up my mind to make a dash for the door when she paused, shaking her tail to rid it of the machine parts that had become entangled around it. With a last triumphant roar she leapt onto the bench.
I flinched, ready for it to collapse on top of my head and squash us like bugs, but by some miracle it held and the Dragoness exited back through the window, smashing the glass as she went.
“I think it's clear,” I panted, crawling out and standing up slowly.
The twins followed, their eyes wide.
We stood in a dejected row, staring at the relics of the Spreader. I looked at Titus and Thomas, the silence stretching longer.
I shook my head slowly, pushing a remnant of twisted metal with my foot. “This doesn’t look repairable,” I said.
Both twins wordlessly shook their heads. Eventually Thomas spoke. “Nope,” he replied. “That is the end of the Spreader.”
We were silent for a moment or two, staring numbly at the ruined machine.
That, of course, was how we were standing when the door opened and two mechanics walked in, followed by Sir George. They all stopped and jaws dropping at the sight of the wreckage.
Silence thundered in the room, and I swear I could almost see Sir George's face getting redder every moment.
He turned his eyes to us. I recoiled as he drew in a deep breath.
“I can see another six months of Lunch Duty staring me in the face,” Thomas moaned.
-end-
Hey look! They didn't all blow up after all. Aw, how nice am I.
AND GUESS WHAT.
Now I want you. Lando story ideas!
(Clare's already submitted hers and should be pleased to know that it's coming next week) (provided I don't forget) To give an example, Clare's idea was: story about a shopping trolley dude who spoilerspoilerspoiler so Lando spoilerspoiler. Although naturally she didn't say the spoiler spoiler parts. I couldn't just tell you half the plot, now, could I?
What do you want to see in a Lando story?
(it can be a plot idea, a fantasy creature, anything at all) (within reasons) (actually who am I kidding. This is Lando. It can be out of reasons too if you want) (basically just go wild)