By 3rd Grade Students at Bubb Elementary
February 2024
The Dragon guarded his cave. An evil baby, named Mr. Pickle, watched.
The dragon was humungous–as big as his favorite evil monster, Godzilla. He was light purple with teeny-tiny white wings.
Mr. Pickle thought the dragon would be as scaly as a horned lizard and as slimy as slime. The dragon surprisingly smelled wonderful, like Mr. Pickles’ mom’s perfume. As he thought of his mom, he felt a tiny bit not evil. But the feeling passed quickly. The dragon looked as if he could make very loud noises, but right now, he paced silently back and forth in front of the cave. Because he was huge, the paces were loud stomps, but the evil baby did not think the dragon had seen him.
The dragon was gulping milk directly from a milk carton. The evil baby knew from the sour smell that the milk was expired. Yum! thought Mr. Pickles. He loved sour, rotten milk. It tasted so evil.
He decided that the best way for him to get inside the cave would be to sleepwalk in. He walked better when he was asleep. He hardly fell at all. But also, a dragon would never attack a sleeping baby. Especially because when he was asleep, he didn’t even look evil. Instead, he looked cute.
He quickly fell asleep—one of his superpowers. Soon he was toddling toward the cave. Only, a very loud crack and then another very loud crack woke him quicker than he could blink. Soft roars ensued. Mr. Pickles had no idea what was going on but the dragon seemed to. The dragon lumbered to the cave entrance and peeked inside. Was the dragon the one making the cracking noises? Making the soft roars? The dragon must have sensed Mr. Pickles’ stare, because he turned his head and made eye contact with the evil baby.
The dragon roared and breathed fire, singing evil baby’s diaper. Mr. Pickles burst into tears. Suddenly his mom arrived. “My sweet boy,” she cried. Her floral perfume wafted over to the dragon who sniffed the air madly. The humongous dragon started lumbering toward Mr. Pickles’ mom. Mr. Pickles saw his chance. He ran, arms flailing into the cave.
Three baby dragons were crawling out of their eggs! Whoa, thought Mr. Pickles. He grabbed fistfuls of egg shells and ran out of the cave. But he ran too fast and stumbled. He fell on his face and burst into wild sobs. Again. His mom picked him up and brushed all the dirt off. While he was imprisoned in his mom’s arms, he watched the dragon pick up all the egg shell pieces and return them to the cave.
“Foiled again,” Mr. Pickles thought. His evil plan had been thwarted.
The end.
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