The dragon who ate tomorrow’s lunch
It was getting late on a slow, sunny afternoon in SnoozyTown.
M and T were busy with chores around the house. Shoes needed scrubbing. Fixer T-shirts needed washing. Dishes clinked in the sink, and dust danced in the golden light.

They were trying to stay focused, but every now and then T would kick a ball across the floor, or M would get distracted staring out the window. You know, kids’ things. Just as they were deciding what to do next, there was a knock at the door.
M looked up. “Are we expecting anyone?”
T shook his head. “Not on a Sunday.”
They opened the door to find little Maeve, just two years old but already faster-thinking than most grown-ups. She was out of breath, full of news.
“Someone is stealing all of tomorrow’s lunches!”
T blinked. “Whose lunch?”

“Everyone’s!” said Maeve. “People prepare their lunches for tomorrow, and now something’s sneaking around eating them out of their lunchboxes.”
Maeve explained how her pet bird, Cookie, had spotted something strange in the sky while out flying. A massive shadow passed through the clouds, so big, the wind shook the rooftops. Soon after, Cookie had overheard pets and townsfolk across SnoozyTown complaining about missing sandwiches and fruit juices.
M and T listened closely. It could only be one thing.
And that one thing was Gunzon.
Gunzon the dragon lived in the hills beyond SnoozyTown. Usually, he was the size of a house, but sometimes, when he wanted to sneak about, he could shrink himself. First to the size of a car, then a wheelbarrow, then a brick, and even, just for a little while, to the size of a speck of dust.
He couldn’t stay that size for long, but it was long enough for mischief. He could shrink and slip into anywhere, especially when the town walls were left unguarded.
“Let’s talk to Sir Thompson McGlory,” said T.

Sir Thompson McGlory was the knight who guarded the outer walls. Brave, loyal, and known for telling stories. In fact, he loved stories so much, he sometimes told four, seven, nineteen, or even seventy-three at a time.
They found him pacing along the wall, scanning the horizon.
“Sir Thompson McGlory,” M called up, “did you see a dragon today?”
“A dragon? No, no, Gunzon hasn’t shown his face in weeks!”
Maeve stepped forward.
“Cookie saw it. And everyone’s lunch is disappearing.”
Sir Thompson McGlory’s cheeks turned bright red.
“Not Gunzon,” he grumbled. “I’ve been looking all day… That trickster!”
He paused. “I’ve only been this furious once before…”
But before he could start on one of his long stories M quickly changed the subject.
“We need your help, Sir Thompson McGlory.”
Together, they gathered their thoughts. Where would Gunzon go next? Maeve, ever sharp, had an idea.
“Who makes the best lunch in all of SnoozyTown?” she asked.
M and T smiled. “Mago Maggie.”
Mago Maggie was a lunch-making wizard - literally. Her lunches were packed with the tastiest magic in town. They hurried to her cottage.
“Have you made your lunch for tomorrow?” asked T.
“Of course,” said Mago Maggie. “It’s in the fridge. A jam and apple sandwich with mint crisps.”
She opened her fridge, and thankfully the lunch was still there.
But she sighed as she heard about the thefts around town.
“Gunzon must be in a growth spurt. You see, teenage dragons eat more as they grow, and sometimes more than they should.”
Maeve looked up at her. “But it’s still not okay to take anyone’s food.”
“Quite right,” said Mago Maggie. “We need a plan.”

Sir Thompson McGlory had one: set a lunch trap. Leave the lovely meal in the middle of the room and hide. “I’ll jump out and catch him myself,” he declared.
Now, Sir Thompson McGlory’s plan was a fine plan. But still M, T, and Maeve thought that they should have a backup. A quieter plan…
They placed a metal lunchbox on the table. Inside was Mago’s carefully crafted meal. They left the lid open. Then, one by one, everyone hid. Under tables, behind chairs, in boxes.
The room fell silent. A window creaked.
Gunzon, now the size of a robin, zipped inside. He hovered, dipped, and perched on the lunchbox edge. Just as he dove inside…
Sir Thompson McGlory leapt out.
“Now!”
But the dragon zipped away. The knight tripped and tumbled. Mago Maggie caught a vase before it smashed.

Things had got a little crazy in the kitchen. Sir Thompson McGlory had fallen flat on his face. Thankfully, his big bushy moustache had softened his fall. But still, Gunzon was free.
He circled back and landed on the edge of the metal box. He looked in and licked his lips. He was ready for lunch number 211 that day.
But this time, the Fixers’ plan kicked in. From beneath the table, M and T sprang up with Maeve. Together, they slammed the lid closed.
The box rattled. Gunzon thumped against the sides, then gave a soft sigh. More tired than angry. M leaned closer.
“You could have just asked Gunzon.”
There was a long pause. Then a tiny voice from inside the box said,
“I didn’t know how.”
“Gunzon,” M said gently, “we know you’re growing. But you can’t steal people’s food, or anything really.”
“If we let you out beyond the walls, will you stay away from SnoozyTown for a long time?”
“Three knocks for yes,” added T. “Two for no.”
They waited.
Knock.
And then a second one.
And then a third.
They smiled.
Sir Thompson McGlory, slightly bruised but still proud, opened the town gates.
As they walked, Maeve whispered to M,
“I think I want to be a Fixer when I grow up.”
M squeezed Maeve’s hand and kept walking.
Together, they carried the box out past the walls.
In a big clear field, they opened it.

Gunzon leapt out, growing in mid-air. He went from robin-sized to house-size in seconds. His wings stretched wide in a joyful, soaring arc, bursting with freedom. He gave a low, smoky huff and then soared into the clouds.
He had learned his lesson and SnoozyTown was safe again.
Thanks to Maeve’s clever thinking.
Thanks to Mago Maggie’s patience.
Thanks to Sir Thompson McGlory’s armor (and his enthusiasm).
And of course, thanks to the Fixers.
M and T exchanged a sleepy grin, their eyes were shining with pride for their friends because they had proven just as brave as any Fixer.
In SnoozyTown, even dragons must learn that asking beats taking.
And so, with full fridges and a quiet sky, SnoozyTown settled once more into sleep.
The End.
