“C’mon! Chicken!”

“Am not! It’s too big!”

“I’ll help. Geezer’ll drop a load when he sees THIS on his doorstep!”

The tallest boy stood under the papier-mache monster and held up his arms, while the littlest, nimblest kid clambered up the scaffold and cut the ropes with his knife. The other boy, darker and dirtier than the pair actually doing the work, stepped up at the last minute to grab a wing and keep it from crashing into the ground.

“This thing’s heavy!” said the tall boy.

“Shaddup, Carl. Whiny baby. Gotta be quiet ‘til we get this out of town.”

The three staggered through the back alleys to the edge of town, listening for the watch, or drunken grownups staggering home from the tavern. The Geezer’s cabin was far enough outside the village that they were out of breath by the time they got there.

“Set it up right there on the porch – quiet, now!”

They snuck up and set the model dragon on the porch, leaning on one wing and its claws, fake fire coming from its mouth.

“Now knock and RUN !!!”

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