Another Boring Sunday

A writing exercise story, that is silly and humorous.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  Two real honest-to-goodness, wing-fluttering, dust-sprinkling, wand-waving, curly-shoe and too-too-tights-wearing, mother-goosey type fairies were standing in front of the "Dr. Goodshoe" store, arguing about god-knows-what.
They kept arguing and waving their wands around, shooting out glittery sparkles with every emphatic gesture.
It was 4am.  The strip-mall was only lit by the street lamps and the headlights of passing cars.
"You turn him back," shouted the first fairy, as she twirled and pirouetted and generally made a spectacle of herself.
"Only if you promise to return my ruby slippers," shouted back the second fairy, pink face red with anger and other girly emotions too bizarre to understand.
The two began circling each other, like neighborhood cats around a half-eaten tuna sandwich.  With mayo.
They drew closer to each other, wands flicking magical sparks like fourth-of-July-disappointment-cause-real-fireworks-are-illegal sparklers.
Suddenly, jets of multi-colored magic flew in cascading arcs.  Lamp-posts morphed into elderberry trees, mailboxes turned into thorny blue bushes, and the lawn gnomes at the home-and-garden store turned into real lawn gnomes, and then into thorny blue bushes.
Lights.  Explosions.  Silence.

As the sparkles faded and the dust settled onto the new shapes of the surrounding environment, not a shape stirred.
Were they dead?  Do fairies die?  Or do they just turn back into the spun-sugar and girly fantasy crap that they started out as?

A passing "Pontiac Excitement" or whatever illuminated the new elephants, barns, snow owls and circus ponies where once the "Kwick-N-Stop" sold fast junk and expensive gas faster than you could write a real sentence.  Like "Quick and stop", just for instance.

In the middle of all the bizarre morphed junk, the two faires stood.  Their lips were locked in a sexy embrace, bosoms heaving, legs caressing legs, you know, sexy stuff like that.
Damn it was hot.

After what seemed like an eternity, the two separated.  They blushed at each other several times, their wings fluttering nervously.  Obviously they had never done that before, in a parking lot at least.

Suddenly, some huge dragon thing burst out of the night sky, huge leathery wings blocking out the light of the half moon.
Some dog howled, and the dragon twisted in it's descent, arcing it's head just enough to send a needle thin stream of flame at the dog, burning his dog-house to the ground.
I hope he was insured.

The fairies screamed and ran back and forth like the scared girly-fairy things that they were.  Finally they clutched each other like some other metaphor, I dunno maybe a drowning man clutching bacon?  Do drowning men like bacon?  What am I thinking, everyone likes bacon!  Anyway, the dragon burned a bunch of stuff as he flew to the two shivering fairies, and the smell of all that reminded me of bacon.

It may have been like 5am at this point.  It was hard to tell how much time had passed between the fairies appearing and when the dragon burned most of the weird stuff to death, but it seemed like an hour or so.

The dragon landed, head reared back in what could've been the beginnings of a cataclysmic sneeze, when the hotter looking fairy shouted up at him.
"Xamos, what are you doing here?  You're not supposed to be in the mortal realms," said that hot sexy fairy.
"Yeah," chirped the other fairy, "it's forbidden for a seventh level being to be anywhere near these flesh-junkies."
The dragon looked around at the jacked-up landscape, some of it still twitching and burping glittery sparkles.
He laughed, a deep, throaty, fiery laugh.
"You think to chastise me?"
He pointed at the charred and scorched carnival side-show that the fairies had turned our local eyesore into.  It was slightly less attractive as a bunch of burned, weird crap.
"You b*****s screwed up, big time," the dragon said, "and now I'm gonna eat you."
The fairies screamed and their little wings fluttered and magic flew out of their wands towards the dragon.
Suddenly, the dragon twitched and lifted his forelimb.
"What the heck is this thing biting me?"  The dragon swung his limb back and forth.  The world got all dizzy and blurry for a second or two.
"That?  That's just some human fleshling we were playing with," said the less hot fairy, "you can have him if you leave us alone," she pleaded pathetically.
The dragon looked down at the thing stuck to his leg.
"Damn, it's a Mexican you idiots," the dragon drew back in horror, "these things give me the runs."
He flicked his leg and the world got all screwy again.

When I woke up, I was lying in a dumpster, covered in cocaine.