Part the Second

When we last left the intrepid Kate the Impaler, she had been singled out by Philadelphia Airport Perpscan because it couldn’t handle the warrior maiden’s Thighs of Thunder. Read on as she struggles with her desire to visit righteous wrath upon the evil minions…

As the minions of Fly Under Coercive Knuckles did order Kate the Impaler to step aside that she might be the latest beneficiary of their ‘complimentary grope-and-pet’ travel enhancement program, the warrior maiden did remind herself that if she impaled these wretched creatures she would be delayed and would be unable to attend while Sarah the Beautiful But Evil Space Princess and Cedar the Redhead of Doom (or the Other Redhead of Doom: we’ll sort them out one day) plighted their troth to the Mathematician and the Evil Muse respectively.

Such a travesty was not to be countenanced. She must remain meek and apparently compliant while she decided what size stake would best become the minions (twelve feet tall, at least four inch diameter, tapering where necessary, rounded, sanded and heavily greased. With pork fat). This comforting notion gave Kate the Impaler the control she needed to endure the overly familiar touch of the minions as they determined that yes, that was indeed all thigh beneath her travel-worn attire (the prospect of removing said raiment did occur to her, but she did reminder herself that frightening the other travelers might cause delay, and the warrior maiden did know that should she remove her clothing to demonstrate that she had no weaponry beneath it she would indeed cause much terror).

And so did the warrior maiden remain meek until the Groping of Officialness was complete and her hands had been absolved of any contact with unwanted substances (she did, after all, know how to wash her hands. With soap, even). Upon reclaiming her personal items, Kate the Impaler did begin the perilous task of navigating inside the airport that she might locate the dragon which would transport her to the great city of Atlanta, after which the Groome’s carriage would convey her unto the land of Choo Choo.

Upon locating the arcane gate allowing transport into the belly of the dragon, the warrior maiden did discover the more subtle arts of torture inflicted upon hapless travelers. Yea, though the antechamber was not greatly crowded, the voices of those awaiting their turn to enter the dragon’s belly did echo mightily. Alas, Kate the Impaler did soon begin to know the aching of the head and the draining swamp of ennui that did drain her spirit and leave her desiring naught but rest.

Ere she could move from weariness of soul to the righteous anger of a warrior suspecting foul deeds, the minions of the dragons did announce that the most privileged of passengers might enter the arcane gate and find their places in the belly of the dragon.

Kate the Impaler did wait, for she did know from long, bitter experience that entry to the dragon would be performed in stages, lest too many enter the beast’s belly at once and distract it, allowing draconic digestion to resume. Yea, though she did mightily despise travel by dragon, she had, in a long past fit of whimsy, endeavored to learn how the mighty beasts did transport folk within their… digestive tract (alas for the unfortunates seated at the rear of the beast) with no more ill effect than a lingering hint of stench and crossed eyes (the beasts can cease their own digestion, thus making their internal cavities relatively spacious by human standards, but should the arcane devices known as ‘computers’ fail, those within the dragon would suffer a terrible fate indeed).

At last, the dread time did arrive when Kate the Impaler must enter the dragon’s belly. She did steel herself as she approached the portal, and did not reach for the sword she could not carry – lest the minions of F.U.C.K. be triggered by sight of sharp and pointy objects – when the sickly baked air of draconic internals did wash over her. And the warrior maiden did give thanks unto the Lord that she had remembered to bring extra water.

Long was the time of waiting ere the dragon did begin to lumber away from the airport, and dull it was with all devices of leisure forbidden lest they distract the dragon. Longer yet was the wait while trapped in the chairs of little comfort and air recycling of little capacity (for the warrior maiden did not doubt the air system did be intended for a dragon whose belly carried half the number crammed into its digestive tract this day), and great was the dread when the Wizard of Pilot did announce to all that the dragon computer spell did have a small problem and the mighty wizards of tech support did be racing to attend to the magic.

But lo! The wizards of tech support did outdo themselves, and the dragon did take wing ere much time had passed.

Kate the Impaler did endeavor to forget the true nature of dragon flight, lest her already unsteady stomach desert her control entirely, for ’tis true that a dragon’s belly, being near the source of its flaming breath, did contain a large reservoir of hot air (larger still when that belly held a full load of passengers), but the wings of the best lack the strength to propel it, and thus, dragons did gain speed by the passage of burning gas… which they did not breathe.

To be continued…