World's Oldest Living Dragon (5 page)

The four sat down.

“They've come back to hear more of the poem, Roger,” said Sir Poodleduff. “Where were we?”

“I know,” said Sir Roger. And he began reciting.

“Perdón!”
said Don Donn. “Pardon me for interrupting, Sir Roger. But you knights wish to be the heroes who save DSA from Grizzlegore, no?”

“We wish we could!” all the knights cried.

All except Sir Lancelot, who kept eating his sticky bun.

“Bueno!”
said Don Donn. “Then I have good news for you. You
can
go to DSA. You can be heroes again.”

Erica stood up. “Good sirs, Don Donn and his new assistants—us!—are going to get you back into knightly shape,” she announced. “We will work with you for the next two weeks using his famous Uno! Dos! Tres! training method.”

Angus stood now. “At the end of two weeks, you will be strong enough to travel to DSA.”

Janice popped up next. “Strong enough to recite the whole Grizzlegore poem.”

Now Wiglaf stood with the others. “Strong enough to do the Grizzlegore dance. And save our school from the dragon.”

“Hooray for us!” cried Sir Poodleduff.

And all the aged knights began clapping and stomping.

“Hah!” cried Sir Lancelot as the cheering died down. “Double hah!”

The room grew very still.

“Oh, come on,” Sir Lancelot said to the aged knights. “You don't really think a few days in a gym is going to make any difference, do you? It will just make you tired. And sore. It will make you cranky. But it will not turn you into heroes again. No way.”

“Wanna bet, Lance?” cried Sir Roger.

“Watch us!” cried Sir Poodleduff.

Now Don Donn rose to stand. “Listen to me, senior
señores
,” he said. “Uno! Dos! Tres! works. I swear it on my wooden leg. Any knights who wish to train, please stand…or if you have trouble standing, please raise your right hand.”

Many a right hand went up in the dining hall.

“
Bueno
, senior
señores
,” said Don Donn. “Then let's get started.” He turned to Sir Lancelot.

“Don't look at me,” Sir Lancelot said. “I'm happy as I am. Doing nothing.”

Welcome to day one of Knightly Training Camp,” said Don Donn as sixteen aged knights tottered and shuffled into the gym.

“Gadzooks!” exclaimed Sir Poodleduff, looking around. “What's all this stuff for?”

“My able training assistants will show you how to do everything,” Don Donn promised. “Now, line up.”

The knights were split into groups of four. Sir Poodleduff, Sir Knickerknot, and two others came shuffling over to Wiglaf.

As Wiglaf helped his knights totter over to the chinning bar, he saw Sir Lancelot leaning in the gym doorway.

“Watch how I grab hold and pull up until my chin touches the bar,” Wiglaf said. He was not very strong. But with the aged knights watching him, he managed to do three passable chin-ups. He dropped to the floor. “Your turn, Sir Poodleduff.”

Don Donn came by. He and Wiglaf gave Sir Poodleduff a boost. The aged knight took hold of the bar.

“You can do it!” Wiglaf said.

“Fat chance!” called Sir Lancelot.

“Pull yourself up!” said Don Donn.

“I am pulling!” cried Sir Poodleduff. Then he let go.

“See?” crowed Sir Lancelot. “What did I tell you?”

Sir Knickerknot and the other aged knights took their turns. Not one of them could do a chin-up. Nor could they lift the oars on the rowing machine. Leaping over the pommel horse was out of the question.

When the dinner bell clanged, the DSA students sat at a table with Don Donn. Once Lancelot left, they were the only ones in the dining hall. All the aged knights were so pooped, they had gone straight to bed.

“It's hopeless,” Janice said. “My group can hardly breathe.”

“Sir Roger can't do anything,” said Angus. “And if I help him, he tries to beat me with his cane.”

“Sir Dribblechin can bend down and touch his knees,” said Erica. “The rest of my crew can't even do that!”

“Sir Knickerknot only looked at the equipment and he fell asleep,” reported Wiglaf.

“Bueno!”
said Don Donn. “Good.”

“Not so
bueno
, sir,” said Erica. “They are all miserable failures.”

“No one ever succeeds without failing at the start,” said Don Donn. “Tomorrow you will see a difference.”

The next day Wiglaf saw that the aged knights did do a teeny-weeny bit better. Sir Poodleduff managed to hold the chinning bar with both hands. And, with great effort, he bent his elbows.

“Hooray!” cheered Wiglaf. “You made progress.”

Sir Knickerknot managed to climb into the rowing machine and pick up the oars before falling asleep.

After an hour of training, Don Donn said, “Knights, take a seat on a mat.”

It took some time for the knights to get their old bodies into sitting positions.

“Close your eyes, senior
señores
,” said Don Donn. “Imagine—it is April Fools' Day. Picture yourselves in bright blue tunics, riding your steeds toward DSA. You are trim and fit, just as you were in your glory days.”

Wiglaf saw that the old knights were smiling.

“Now, picture yourselves facing the dragon,” said Don Donn. “You stare him in the eye and begin saying the poem.”

Some of the aged knights began silently mouthing the words.

“Now,” said Don Donn, “imagine breaking into the Grizzlegore dance.”

“Whoa!” cried Sir Poodleduff. He kept his eyes closed, but he started moving his hands and feet.

“Yessss,” cried Sir Roger, doing the same.

“Feast your eyes on us, you greedy dragon!” cried Sir Knickerknot.

“Well done,” Don Donn said at last. “Open your eyes. An excellent beginning. Report to the gym tomorrow morning at seven bells.”

The old knights struggled to their feet. They limped out of the gym.

But Sir Poodleduff stayed behind. He walked over to the chinning bar, and grabbed hold. He pulled. He gritted his teeth. His face turned red. And he did one chin-up.

“Hooray, Sir Poodleduff!” cried Wiglaf. “Outstanding!”

He turned to Don Donn. “This works!” he said.

“Sí,”
said Don Donn. “It always does.”

Knightly Training Camp went on for days. The aged knights worked hard. Every day, they got a little bit stronger. They never complained about the exercises. Only about the new health food Don Donn served them.

Some days, Sir Lancelot would slouch in the doorway of the gym.

“
Señor
Lancelot!” called Don Donn. “Come show these aged knights how to do a chin-up!”

Sir Lancelot only shook his head. “Why should I?” he said. “I'm not training to go off on any silly quest.”

As training went on, the aged knights saw real progress.

On day five, Sir Poodleduff did three chin-ups.

On day seven, Sir Roger tossed aside his cane. “Good riddance!” he cried.

On day eight, Sir Knickerknot climbed all the way up the rope and slapped the ceiling. “Yessss!” he cried.

On day nine, Sir Roger walked to the chinning bar.

“Sir Roger! Sir Roger! He's our man!” cheered Angus. “He can do chin-ups, yes, he can!”

Sir Roger jumped up, grabbed the bar, and did twelve chin-ups.

“Yay!” the aged knights cheered as he let go of the bar. “Hooray!”

Every day, Don Donn had the knights close their eyes and imagine themselves having glory days once more.

By day ten, Sir Poodleduff was standing straight and tall. He looked twenty years younger than he had when Wiglaf had first seen him. And Sir Roger had muscles in his arms and a fire in his eyes.

At the end of day eleven, the aged knights went over to Don Donn and his assistant trainers.

“We are living proof that Uno! Dos! Tres! works, Don Donn,” said Sir Poodleduff. He turned around to show off his fine posture.

“Sí!”
said Don Donn.

“But starting tomorrow morning,” put in Sir Roger, “we need some time off.”

Don Donn frowned. “But why?”

“If we are going to save DSA from Grizzlegore,” Sir Roger said, “we need time to practice our dance.”

Don Donn broke into a grin.
“Bueno!”
he said. “We can work that into the training routine.
No problemo!
”

“Hey, Roger,” said Janice. “Can you teach us the dance?”

“Do dragons have scales?” said Sir Roger.

“Do knights have armor?” said Sir Poodleduff.

“Of course we can!” cried all the aged knights together.

“All right!” yelled Janice. She blew a bubble bigger and bigger until it popped. “Tomorrow we rock!”

The next morning, Wiglaf and the others rushed to the gym.

The aged knights were already there.

“Come on over!” called Sir Poodleduff when he saw them. “We've been practicing since dawn.”

“Ready, Poodleduff?” said Sir Roger. “Let's demo.”

The two old knights stood side by side. With a jump, they turned to face each other and drew imaginary swords. They called out:

They put their index fingers to their foreheads and said:

Sir Poodleduff and Sir Roger spread out their fingers at the sides of their heads and made terrible angry faces:

Now they each held up their right hand in the shape of a claw.

“We can do that!” cried Erica. “Watch!”

The four DSA students did the Grizzlegore moves.

“Muy bueno!”
said Don Donn, who had come into the gym unnoticed. “Very good!”

The aged knights said the next verse of the poem and demonstrated the dance steps:

Every time they said Grizzlegore's name, they made the sign of the claw with their aged hands. But when they got to the part where Grizzlegore “flamed and raved,” the old knights went wild.

They spun around, jumped up, and fell to the floor in splits.

“Good sirs!” cried Wiglaf. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes,” said Sir Poodleduff, pushing himself up to his hands and knees. “It's all part of the dance.”

Sir Roger said, “Actually, I seem to be stuck here.”

After that, the aged knights decided to explain the wilder dance moves to Wiglaf and his friends, and not go all out until they met Grizzlegore.

Janice was a natural at the Grizzlegore dance—especially the wild and crazy parts. Erica was great at the hand motions. Angus's best moves were shakes and shimmies. Wiglaf discovered he had a talent for the quick spin and the splits. He thought he had never worked so hard in his life. By the time they got to verse seven, he and his friends were panting for breath and soaked with sweat.