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Dafydd retires for night, leaving Aromaxis awake on hillside getting more and more tired, until the morning when he is fatigued beyond belief and the Dragons regain the Mountain to a chorus of Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau.
MY HILL, I do believe. And if it isn't, I'm off to bed, which will lull you in to a false sense of security so that you will make the wrong decision in the morning. This is called Pyschological Warfare.
LOL I know Psychological Warfare too! :D Extinguish the powers of Dragon by singing them "Bad Romance"
MY HILL!!!!!
See You Dafyd Have Good Welsh Breakfast :D
Dragon, too, has good Welsh breakfast, complete with lava bread, which relights his fire, and he leads Dafydd to top of mountain, singing Sospan Fach at the tops of their voices.
Dw i wedi mynd adre!
MY HILL!
THE DRAGON, all others mere figments of Daffy Dave's imagination, return in a blaze of hellfire, to reclaim the hill, such as it is.
THE DRAGON's Hill!
CURSES! The progeny of Uther Pendragon, King, Duke of the Blue Ridge Mountains and promised saviour of the celtic races has cracked the magic code. (Slinks down hill to pub for consolatory pint and oggy. Sob Sob, Gulp Gulp)
And the dragon is still impotent against my farts and burps. :p
Ah, but there is methane in the emissions, which is flammable, and thus catches fire fire in the breath of the dragon, causing a monster, buttock-burning explosion and Nikhar is blown to the bottom. Of the hill. Thus, the Hill is mine again.
(Oh, and we'll miss you!)
The Dragon retreats to the other dimension, deciding that the hill isn't worth his trouble, after all he rules the other dimension
Daffy Dave retains control of the hill
Daffy Dave passes away of dsiappointment and anti-climax, thus releasing the hill to anybody who can bothered to paddle around in dragon droppings. Exits stage left, pursued by a hearse.
The Dragon reclaims the hill, first using his flaming breath to sterilize it of Dragon droppings. His first move is to build a castle with a bathroom large enough to accommodate a dragon.
The Dragon's Hill. Trespassers will be subject to the Dragon's flaming breath, survivors will be prosecuted.
I know that I am ever so 'umble, never mind both tasty and crunchy , so I have therefore sent a letter, asking if your 'umble servant could have an 'umble corner in which to reside, 'umbly of course, although there might be a spot of usurping later, once I've got my 'umble feet under the table.
P.S. I don't mind cleaning dragons' bathrooms, for I am ever so 'umble!
Always room for Daffy Dave on the Dragon's Hill and in his castle. We will deal with usurping when we get to that point! Welcome!
Oh Thank 'ee, young master, thank 'ee. 'Ee be a koind an' saintly man, zur. Can I clean anything?
Uriah Alert! The duck is in big trouble if this humble spy has anything to do with it!
* Sounds of 'umble quacking!*
Pendragon's Hill
Meanwhile, one hundred yards under the Hill, a nuclear stockpile is lying dormant completely untouched by what feels like years. That is until now. Galzraa sets the activation code on the bombs and prepares his army of machines for war with the seemingly indestructible. He arms them with three inch thick fireproof armor and long ranged weaponry. As the bombs goes off a distant roar is heard and Galzraa's prudent preparations weren't in vain.
The War for The Hill Starts... again
Pendragon's "Hill"
(Sorry Daffy, for the Nuking. I guess your usurping gets harder now :))
*Wanders off disconsolately quacking miserably. Loyalty only goes so far.*
The dragon knocks back a six pack of kerosene, and muches on anthracite. Bring it on!
Dragon's Hill!
*What the kingoflombards doesn't realise is that the aforegoing was just an act, and that if I am to become crispy fried duck, it will be in the best traditions of Welsh fowl everywhere - done with dragon breath*
Think so? I'm gusseling petrol today. Gotta keep the fires stoked!
But I come surrounded by barriers of water and other flame proof undergarments diguised as a rock, you'll not see me as I take over the hill....shh...don't tell anyone...the surprise is the thing!
*Sounds Trumpet - rather camp version of "Boogie Woogie Buble Boy From Company B", calls Pendragon*:
"Sire, Sire, be I ever so 'umble, Sire *grovel grovel* there be a usurper in a barrel of water a-comin' up yon mountain. I be uour 'Umble Servant, Lord Pendragon, Young Master" *Exits stage left for a large draught of mead and a rub-dwon with a wench*
There are some complaints about Daffydd's perfectly trained monkey causing a lot of trouble on the hill.
While he goes to resolve the issues, I sit comfortably on 'MY HILL'... :banana: :D
Madhuri does not realise that the monkey, whose name is Artaxerxes, has the wisdom of a thousand humans, and whilst she sits in confort, in fact she has lost the psychological edge, thus surrendering the hill!
Since my "umble servant" has walked in and claimed the hill, I remind him of just who is the boss here. He bows and fetches my platter of anthracite and bituminous coal to stoke the fires and rest me. Don't forget the napalm on the side, Daffy Dave!
Dragon and Daffy Dave's hill!
I was keepin' da hill for youse, Boss! I'll get da anchr....antrhcei....antnrax,,,cncithe.. coal!
...the rock creeps ever closer...unseen and unsuspected...
....except by Daffy's monkey, who is all-seeing and all-knowing. There is no avoid The Gaze Of Artaxerxes! Enter at Your Peril!
And besides, the Dragon never sleeps!
*Daffy scuttles behind Pendragon for protection, loosens cap on another bottle of Heinz Tomato Ketchup*
"I got da stuff, Boss, do I do good, Boss, did I, huh?"
The rock disquise is really working, I'm almost to the top. There is that pesky dragon and that omnipotent monkey to deal with, but I've got their number....BWAHAHAHA...oh shh...mustn't let them hear me.
Too late. Dragons have very acute hearing, and it heard you eat your breakfast, over 30 miles away. Prepare for the Ketchup!
BAM! *Punch drunk monkey falls off the Hill*
As the bottle of ketchup falls off the Hill, Pendragon will hopefully realize that I won't taste as good without it and will follow in pursuit.....hopefully.
All fingers crossed. My Hill?
PS: my army is still there :)
What no ketchup? Daffy, where the @!!%# is my ketchup? These fools don't taste right without it! Not bad, though. Blackened kingoflombards with aged lamp oil! Yum!
And, incidentally, my hill!
*It ain't me, Boss, It's da monkey, Boss, we get dis bum, we get dis bum good!*
Hummmm Roast Monkey... I think I have just the recipe! Don't forget the bloody ketchup this round...
*Monkey runs down hill, deserting previous owner, enters Rose & Crown, imbibes immoderately and is no longer part of the equation. Coward!*
-wonders up the hill, sets out a chair, umbrella and proceeds to drink a margarita and read-
My hill.
*Magically disables gravity and rolls up hill*
*Puts a BIGGER chair over yours and perches upon it*
My hill!
*reminds everyone that no chairs are allowed and banishes them all*
Scher's hill!
UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT AND WITHOUT ANY CHAIRS!