Girrrrr like gravycatman said.

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A long time ago, near a village called Buttery Glen, there lived a dragon. He was huge and covered in sharp, pointy scales. The fire he breathed could kill everyone.

He lived on a birds nest he stole.

Everyone in Buttery Glen was scared of the dragon...everyone but one bad girl.

Girrrr wanted to be a knight. She was strong and brave and unafraid.

Sure, the dragon breathed fire. But there were people with worse breath. And sure, the Dragon looked scary. But there were dogs in the village with scarier faces.

One day, the dragon had come down from his nest and was hiding in the cornfields.

Everyone ran to escape the dragon. Everyone except for Girrrr.

Armed with her homemade sword, helmet and shield, Girrrr ran through the deserted village toward the cornfield.

When she spotted the dragon, Girrrr snuck up behind him.

“Excuse me!” Girrrr yelled. The dragon roared. He lowered his head to her level. Girrrr felt the dragon’s hot breath on her face.

“I’m Girrrr,” she said. “I’ve come to tell you to go away. You’re scaring everybody.”

The dragon’s breaths quickened. Huff! Huff! Huff! It looked like the dragon’s fire was about to blow! Girrrr braced herself. But instead of fire coming out his mouth, tears began pouring down the dragon’s snout.

“I’m so lonely. Nobody likes me,” the dragon said.

“Why should anyone like you?” Girrrr replied. “You burned down the castle.”

“I didn’t burn down the castle,” the dragon said. “It was struck by lightning. I would never do that.”

“Wow,” Girrrr said. “Sounds like you’re the victim of a smear campaign. We’ve got to fix this. What are you good at?”

“Breathing fire,” replied the dragon.

“Well, let’s see it,” ordered Girrrr.

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