THE FINAL BOOK IN THE JELLYBEAN THE DRAGON STORIES
Since having his arms cut off Fillmore the Dragon is being a right royal pain. Emma the astronaut wants to help. However there's a problem. The struggle to get new arms for Fillmore threatens the on-going existence of the universe as Ronix, the evil overlord of Planet Inc., is the only available provider. And he strikes a hard bargain.
Enjoy the ride with Emma as we learn about pollution and the environment, discover new words and once again spend time with some of the most annoying dragons that have ever existed!
NOT ACCEPTING ANYMORE OFFERS OF TRANSLATION. THANKS.
Emma wandered through the lush green, flowery grounds of King Buttercup’s palace. Roses, lilies, petunias and carnations – he didn’t have any of those. King Buttercup’s palace had been Emma’s home for quite a while now. Her astronaut suit, her usual attire, had been stored away and was gathering dust. Perhaps her adventures were over. She was stuck on Zanu – home of the most annoying creatures ever evolved, dragons. She had renounced – given up – her title of princess and instead chosen to be the official guitarist of Zanu having beaten Fillmore in an epic guitar battle. She wore ripped jeans and a black sleeveless t-shirt to show off her rock music tastes. She couldn’t get a tattoo though as she was too young, and because the local dragon tattooist was blind.
Her last adventure had seen her go to Camelot where Lancelot had schemed along with Guinevere to start a war with Zanu and then take over from King Arthur. Emma, with Cyril the Dragon then Jellybean the Dragon had stopped this from happening. Yes, it had been an eventful time but now it seemed as though those times were in the past.
Every morning at first light, Emma would take a walk through King Buttercup’s gardens. She went that early so that she could have a few moments alone. She did not want to be disturbed by Jellybean asking how long for a runny egg, (5 minutes), or by Cyril asking if it was true that he really was a dragon. These moments were precious. Being alone with the bumblebees, the sound of the birds singing their delightful tunes and the whimpering and the agonised cries of Fillmore.
