A Land of Tales and Dreams

I Guess This is the Winner of the Wattys 2025

WEEK TEN

Prompt: "If I die tonight, donate all my organs to those in need—except for my middle finger. Give that to the King."

Warnings: the usual nonsense >.>

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"But what if the king doesn't want it?" asked Jeffery the finger puppet.

Sarah let out a long sigh, adjusting the sword at her belt. Jeffery was always bringing up hypotheticals to vex her. "He wouldn't dare refuse mine; he knows what it means."

Jeffrey raised his eyebrows and let out an unconvinced, "hmm."

It was fortunate that Jeffery was, in fact, the middle finger.

"But of course, it's best if I don't die tonight." Sarah let out a long, suffering sigh and peered out of the dirty window. There were lines smeared across the glass from her various games of tic-tac-toe with Jeffery. All while waiting, waiting for the backyard dogs to show up in the warehouse.

"Woof, woof!"

"Shut up, dog!" a non-lover-of-dogs human roared. The dogs growled in response, before turning into sexy werewolf bad boys.

"Oh, oh my..." the human whispered, as she flipped her hair and batted her eyelashes.

Sarah watched as the human charged across a field and jumped onto one sexy werewolf bad boy. She sighed. Now she'd have to slay them all, before their sexiness became too obnoxious to handle. It was a good thing she had an uncontrollable evil hand that would take them all out.

"Feel my wrath!" Sarah bellowed, charging forward.

"This is a horrible plan!" Jeffrey shrieked as she smashed through the window.

"This is a terrific plan, what are you saying?" Sarah shouted back, and Jeffrey's eyes widened as he was slapped against the glass of the window and the glass smashed.

Jeffrey landed in some mud outside and looked up to see a dragon standing before him. "....Ma-mama Cross?"

But low and behold, it was not Mama Cross, but rather, the lame dragon in the corner no one remembers.

"Who are you?" Jeffrey asked, in awe of the lame dragon.

"I am you," the lame dragon replied.

"Psh. I want whatever that lame dragon is having," one of the sexy werewolves said to a bartender nearby.

"I do not have anything alcoholic," the lame dragon whispered. "I just drink the blood of young humans. Keeps the flame burstin'. But I am full today."

The authors blinked, not knowing what to do next. One of the werewolves—the least sexy and therefore the most awesome one—thankfully came to the rescue, throwing a large lettuce at the dragon. The dragon perked up and swallowed the lettuce whole, mummering something along the lines of, "This smells like something edible."

There was a bomb inside the lettuce though, and the lame dragon exploded because, well, he's lame. Lame dragons always die in the story...

Sarah allowed a moment of silence for the dragon, she and Jeffery bowing in unison, before forgetting all about his existence and continuing with their day. One of the sexy werewolves got off their chair, following them.

Sarah stuck Jeffery up at the werewolf. Jeffery glared at the werewolf.

"Don't be like that, Onii-chan. I was just doing what Mummy told me," the werewolf said to Jeffrey, lifting his hands and backing a step.