Snitchel's Tale III: The REAL "Fight with the Dragon"

(Snitchel has pestered me until I have nearly gone crazy. I am, thankfully, writing this without his constant nagging about descriptive words and minute inaccurate details. I can tell the story HONESTLY.)



Thus far, you, as my reader, have been envisioning Snitchel--considering how few humans have seen a sprite--to be the size of a dwarf, elf, fawn, etc. They--sprites, I mean--are, however, fantastical creatures no larger than a pen. My quill is actually larger than Snitchel....



Do you see now why I view him with such scoffing disdain? He is no bigger than my index finger. With a flick of my pen I could squash him! So you understand my itching desire to be rid of this minuscule menace. So, why haven't I? Snitchel has placed some odd fixture on my wrist that chains me--invisibly of course--to him. (Sigh....)



Snitchel, being terrified to death of the humongous crocodile--not dragon folks! CROCODILE!--stood trembling on the shore opposite of the crumbling tower. Scanning for a safe path, he quickly flew... (sigh, oh yes. i should explain that.).



Sprites, annoying nasty little buggers, can fly. Why did he not simply fly to the crumbling tower? A magical spell--beginning at the moat--surrounds this island of sorts. Snitchel attempted to fly super fast at the beginning of his journey dropped motionless at the point of an invisible barrier. Thus, he was forced to walk.



Lazy, for that is exactly what Snitchel is, he spied the fallen tree--completely ignoring the sweat soaked dwarf who had felled it--and ran across the trunk of the tree. He was nearly across when the giant (at least to Snitchel) crocodile blocked his path. Scared out of his pea-brain mind, Snitchel frantically scoured the area and chose to grab a puny little twig from the tree trunk.



Having acquired a weapon, Snitchel let out a tiny war cry and swung wildly at the mighty crocodile. The only reason Snitchel wasn't immediately devoured is because the crocodile had a wry sense of humor. The sight of the pen sized warrior--no bigger than his nostril--swinging a twig in his face caused the crocodile to begin chuckling.



Now, Snitchel, when he is mad, gets very bright red. His temper is so easy to set off that little things like someone laughing at him throws him into a rage. So, as the large, tickled crocodile chuckled low in his throat and pounded his large claw heavily on the fallen log.

By this point, Snitchel had about blown a fuse in his fury, and was wildly attacking the crocodile with his puny twig. This, of course, only served to further encourage the crocodile's laughing. In his excited, rolling on the log, laughing the crocodile slipped and fell into the moat. And THAT, Ladies and gentlemen, is how Snitchel ACTUALLY crossed the moat.