A HARD DAY'S KNIGHT
by Sara

        Once upon a time, there was a very old and very cranky dragon.  The dragon was cranky because he had arthritis and he was old because. . .well, just because he was.  He lived in a dank and smelly cave by a river, whose gurgling sounds soothed him when his arthritis gave him insomnia.   One day the dragon's friend, Vinnie the Vulture, came to visit him.  Vinnie was grinning from ear to ear - not an easy feat for a vulture - so the dragon knew that something was up.  
        "What are you so happy about, you old scavenger?" grumbled the dragon.  
        "You're providing me with lunch today," said Vinnie, chuckling evilly.  "Another one of those fool knights is riding this way to challenge you, prove his manhood, win the hand of a princess, etc, etc.  I'm here for his remains after the battle.  Remember, I like my knights well done."
        "Why do they insist on bothering me?" the dragon roared.  "I've never attacked a village, carried away a frightened child. . . I don't even like the taste of damsels in distress!"  He slowly stood up and stretched out his aching joints.  "All right, I guess I'll give him what he came for.  You stay here, Vinnie.  I don't want your beady little eyes boring into my scales."  So, the leering vulture hopped into a nearby tree to wait for his lunch.
        The dragon had not gone far when he began to hear the familiar sound of hooves hitting the forest ground.  "Oh brother, he's even riding a white horse," he muttered to himself.  "How cliché!"
        The brave. . ."handsome, talented and filthy rich," the knight interrupted.
        Excuse me, as the narrator, I can tell you that it doesn't say that here.
        "Obviously a misprint," the knight replied.  "Where's my agent?!"
        There are no agents, this is a fairy tale.
        "Oh, well then," said the knight.  "Where's my pen?"
        Uh. . .there aren't any pockets in shining armor to carry one.
        "Fine," the knight said sarcastically.  "If you're so wise, write one in for me!"
        Okay. . .suddenly a pen and paper mysteriously fell from the sky and landed at the knight's feet.  The knight picked them up and wrote something on the paper.
        "Done," he said.  "Now read this, ye troublesome Narrator!"  The knight prepared to face the, by this time, very bored dragon.
        Ahem. . .and so, the brave, heartsam, tarenred and fishy rice knight. . .
        "What?!" exclaimed the knight.
        Next time, take off the chain mail glove before you write.
        "I don't have to take this!" yelled the knight.  "I'm leaving!  There must be a fairy tale that needs a handsome, brave and filthy rich knight!"  And with that, the knight stormed completely out of the story.
        "Wow!  I should have roasted him before he had any dialogue!" said the dragon.  "Your showdown between me and a poor, unfortunate knight won't be very exciting without a knight."
        True, but don't worry.  I think I have a "Meanwhile, back at the village" scene somewhere around here.  I'll try that.  Why don't you go back to your cave and rest until I need you again?
        "Love to," said the dragon.  "As long as YOU tell Vinnie how his lunch got away!"

        Meanwhile, back at the village of London, England, the Queen was not amused.  "I don't know what we are going to do!" she sighed to her royal advisors.  "He was the last knight in our entire kingdom!  Are we supposed to fight this dragon ourselves?"  She looked at each of them with a meaningful stare, but each one quickly looked away and began to hum.  "Don't all volunteer at once!" she said.  "And stop that humming!  You sound like a beehive!"
        "Pardon me, Your Royal Highness, but we have already stopped humming," said one of the advisors.  "The music your Royal ears are hearing is coming from your daughter's room down the hall."    
        "Indeed," said the Queen.  "She must be watching Beatle movies again."
        "Yes, agreed the advisor.  "I believe it is 'A Hard Day's Night'".
        "Night. . .Beatles. . ." murmured the Queen.  "Ladies and gentlemen, I think we may have solved our problem!"  

        A few hours later, a stunned Sir James Paul McCartney sat on the couch in the Queen's sitting room.  "Slay a dragon?!" he said.  "How in the world do I do that?!  Uh. . .Your Majesty."
        "Well," the Queen answered.  "You are officially a knight, Sir Paul.  "London is in danger from this ferocious monster.  We are asking you to do this as both a loyal citizen of Britain and a representative of the royal court."
        "But," said Sir Paul.  "What do I do with it?"
        "Take it home to your family, open up a business selling dragon burgers, whatever you want," answered the Queen.
        "I'm a vegetarian," Sir Paul reminded her.
        "Oh, that's right," said the Queen. "Well, we will leave the details up to you.  Will you help?"
        "I. . ." Sir Paul hesitated.  The Queen leaned forward and looked at him with the urgency she felt showing in her eyes.  "Please Paul," she beseeched him.  "We need you."
        "Beseeched?" asked Sir Paul.
        "Of course," answered the Queen.  "Royalty never begs, we beseech.  It's ever so much more dignified."
        Inspired by her confidence and beseeching, Sir Paul squared his shoulders and said "Lead me to the fire-proof armor!"  

        The next day, Sir Paul began his lonely quest.  He rode gallantly. . .uh, sort of gallantly. . .okay to tell the truth, he looked rather clumsy on his horse.
        "Hey!" Sir Paul protested.  "I can ride very well, thank you!  Usually I don't wear all of this metal."  
        Sir Paul was still not sure exactly what he was going to do when he found the dragon.   
        "I'll say I'm not!  I certainly can't kill it because it is a living creature after all.  I don't know how I could get something that ferocious to a wildlife sanctuary by myself."  He frowned in frustration.  "What else can I do?  Ask it to join my band as a back-up singer?" he said sarcastically.
        Back at the cave, Vinnie was once again chuckling evilly - and it was really starting to get on the dragon's nerves.
        "Okay Vinnie, I get the idea," he said.  "Go and do your leering somewhere else for awhile."
        "Fine," said Vinnie, as he flew off.  "But I'll be back!"  

        Okay people, I'm ready for knight vs. dragon, take 2.  Ready everyone?
        "No," replied Sir Paul.  "I still haven't resolved my moral dilemma between preserving the life of a living creature while fulfilling the obligation I have to save Britain!"
        "Wait a minute," said the dragon.  "I know that voice!  Are you Sir James Paul McCartney, former Beatle?"
        "Yes," Sir Paul replied as he lifted the visor on his helmet.
        "Macca!"  exclaimed the dragon.  "What are you doing here?  Are you a knight or a rocker?"
        "I'm a knocker," Sir Paul deadpanned and the dragon roared with laughter.
        "Wow!  I have all of your albums!  It is truly an honor to have you at my cave!"
        "Thanks," replied Sir Paul.  "Actually Dragon, I came to talk to you about this habit of yours of roasting knights..."
        "Oh that," said the dragon.  "I don't eat them, if that's what you mean.  I went veggie years ago."
        "Then why are the knights being killed?" asked Sir Paul.
        "Because they insist on battling to the death, either theirs or mine." the dragon answered.  "That's not a tough choice!"
        "So, if they left you alone, then you wouldn't hurt anyone?" asked Sir Paul.
        "Of course not," the dragon assured him.  "All you need is love, right?"
        "Uh, sure" Sir Paul replied.  "Say Dragon. . .how are you at Mac-up vocals?"
        "Don't you mean back-up?"
        "No, Mac-up.  Like Mc-Cartney, get it?"
        "Oh right!"  answered the dragon.  "I don't know.  What did you have in mind?"

        EPILOGUE:  They say that music soothes the savage beast and I guess the musician does, too.  Sir Paul loved the acoustics in the dragon's cave and recorded his next hit single there called "Lullaby in the Dragon's Lair", on which the dragon did sing back-up. . .uh, Mac-up.  The dragon has declined most interviews, but Oprah has been invited to come next week and have a spot of tea.  Once the town doctor knew that the dragon was nice, he was able to help him ease the pain of his arthritis as well.  By the way, the brave, handsome and filthy rich knight now works mopping floors in the castle for breaking the knight code of honor by being so rude to the narrator.  Otherwise, everyone in this story . . .

    lived happily ever after.

Author's Notes:  "A Hard Day's Knight" took 2 years to write and was completed on 11/12/98.  It is dedicated with lots of love and complete gratitude to Sir Paul McCartney for all of the talents he has shared with the world.  May he "Rock On!" for many, many years to come!