The Dragon’s head was firmly caught under the bar of the baby swing.
“What’s up?” asked Sam.
Sam knelt down and looked up at the Dragon. “What d’ya say?”
The Dragon wriggled, “Can’t you see?” he spluttered, “I’m stuck.”
Sam stood up, grabbed the rusty bar and jerked. Bit by bit, yank by yank it squeaked upwards. The Dragon squeezed out. “Phew,” he breathed, curls of smoke escaping from his nostrils. “Thanks awfully”
“It was Horrible Harriet.”
“Oh.” Sam knew exactly who the Dragon meant. Harriet was the roughest, toughest, meanest bully in the whole of St Edward’s Junior School. “Does she pick on you too?”
The Dragon nodded. “It’s ‘cos I’m different.”
Sam frowned. “We need to teach her a lesson.”
The Dragon grinned a dragonish grin. “I’ve got an idea. Meet me here tomorrow, and bring a camera.”
Next morning Sam and the Dragon lay in wait behind an enormous hedge, watching Harriet’s house. The front door opened, and Sam gasped. It was Harriet all right, but her hair was neatly brushed, and she was wearing a frilly dress, pink cardigan and shiny black shoes. Harriet kissed her Mum sweetly, and skipped down the path.
“Quick, take a picture,” hissed the Dragon.
Sam took careful aim, CLICK!
Safely hidden, they watched Harriet sneak into the garden shed. A few moments later she re-appeared, wearing her usual torn jeans, faded T-shirt and baseball cap. It was the Harriet they knew and hated.
Together they stepped purposefully into her path. Sam triumphantly raised his camera. “We saw you,” he said. “And we’ve got the picture to prove it.”
Harriet clutched her head. “Oh no,” she groaned.
“You stop bullying, or we’ll show everyone,” said the Dragon.
“Ok, ok!” wailed Harriet. “I’ll do anything.”
No one could believe the new Harriet. They were all amazed. She tidied herself up, and was nice to everyone.
But Sam kept the photograph, just in case!