BOOM!
Frank sat up in his tiny bed. "Who's there!?" he gasped.
According to his digital alarm clock, it was just after midnight. It was very dark in his room, aside from the clock. Nobody answered him.
"Hey!" Frank shouted. "I know I didn't just imagine that sound of an explosion! It better not be you neighborhood punks setting off fireworks outside my window again."
But then Frank paused and thought about where the sound had come from. No, it hadn't been the sound of fireworks, and certainly not outside his tiny house. No, the sound was more like a bomb going off... and it had definitely come from inside the house.
Frank reached under his bed for his baseball bat—a weapon that was bloodstained from beating the possums and oversized spiders which kept invading his very drafty house. "I've got a gun!" Frank lied, yelling in the general direction the explosion seemed to have come from. "You'd better run!"
But there was no more sound, neither of feet thumping as they ran away or of doors opening or of another explosion.
Finally, Frank kicked his own bedroom door open. It fell off its hinges, being very old and rotten. It was a very cheap house, after all. Frank carefully crept down the hallway, then turned to face the "living room" which was really just a large kitchen. He gasped at what he saw.
A rock about the size of a motorcycle had smashed through his roof and landed in the middle of the living room/kitchen area. It was glowing, but not with heat. Instead, a gold-blue shimmer surrounded the stone. Steam surrounded it.
"I still must be dreaming," Frank muttered. However, then he felt the aching hunger in his belly which had been present before he went to bed. He never felt that kind of hungry pain in a dream. "Still, how can this possibly be real life?" Frank wondered out loud.
He reached out with his baseball bat and poked the rock.
It split in half with a mighty CRACK!
Frank jumped backward and raised the baseball bat in front of him like it was a sword. He stared in shock as a huge scaly snake slithered out of the two halves of the rock. "No," he muttered. "Not a snake... It's got legs!"
Sure enough, the creature that looked like a gold-blue snake had six tiny legs which were flexing and scraping against the vinyl floor underneath it. Two tiny dragonfly wings flapped on its back, and it moved to face him.
Frank screamed in terror!
The creature seemed to have a human face, complete with hair, eyebrows, and a beard that looked like it was made of golden wool. "Thank you for rescuing me," the creature said in a voice like honey. "I would have been trapped in there for eternity if you had not struck my prison with a wand anointed with the blood of marsupials and arachnids. You must possess powerful arcane knowledge to have perceived the right method to break the incantation which imprisoned me."
Frank glanced at the blood-covered wooden bat in his hands. "Oh. That was an accident... I mean, you're welcome. I think. Who are you, exactly, and what are you doing in my house?"
"I am the great dragon Woblefoote," said the great dragon Woblefoote. "I was banished from my world by an evil wizard because I would not grant him wishes. However, perhaps it is for the better. I can sense that there are no dragons in this world, so nobody will think to look for me and ask for wishes. I can live here in peace, like in the time before wizards came to my original world from their own."
Frank's head felt light. "This is all too much information to take in," he said. "A dragon? You grant wishes? Wizards from another world? Dragons from another world?" Then another thought came to him. "You know, maybe you shouldn't have told me all that. After all, I, uh, knew the magic to free you. How do you know that I'm not a wizard who might do more terrible things to you?"
The dragon let out a sound like a cat purring. "I can smell every detail of your soul, mortal named Frank. There is no hatred or corruption in your heart. Though I can sense that you are desperately hungry, desperately poor, even still, I can tell that you would never harm an innocent creature simply to make your own life better. That is what separates you from the wizard who imprisoned me."
The dragon closed its eyes in contemplation. "Bepisix. That monster. That demon! He would have tortured a village full of cat people just to prove a point. He cares nothing for life." The dragon opened its eyes again. "My friend, I wish to reward you for rescuing me."
Frank's heart skipped a beat. "Wait, you really mean it? You wouldn't mind giving me a wish?"
The dragon suddenly paused. It looked apologetic. "Actually, erm, I don't like giving wishes. They have a very bad way of backfiring. But..." It looked around the tiny, rotten house which had put Frank into debt for the rest of his life. "Your life is misery in this world, correct?"
"Y-yeah," said Frank. He glanced at the fridge behind the dragon. It was currently empty. "I haven't had a proper meal for a few days. I work at a gas station. The owner's brother got mad that I wouldn't sell him beer until he showed me his ID, so he complained to the owner and I got fired. Nothing ever seems to work out for me." He coughed. "You know, maybe we don't have to call it a wish, maybe you can just magically summon some gold coins or something... I could sell those and live a long time off something like that. What do you think?"
But it seemed like the dragon hadn't heard anything Frank had just said. Instead, it had closed its eyes and was chanting something in a strange language. At last, it opened its eyes again. "My reward is completed," it said. "Mortal named Frank, you will never go hungry again. That is my gift to you."
Frank's heart skipped a beat. "Wait, really? You're really going to give me money or something—"
Suddenly, the baseball bat in his hands burst into thousands upon thousands of tiny white bits. Most of them cascaded onto the floor, rattling until they came to a stop.
Frank stared at the bits still in his hands.
Grains of white rice.
He slowly raised his gaze to stare in bewildered horror at the dragon. "What..."
"And now the second reward," said the dragon. "I free you from this misery, mortal named Frank. I cast you back to the land where I was born, a land of wonder and adventure, where you can start fresh. We both know there is nothing good in this world for you."
"Wait!" Frank gasped. "Let's talk about this—"
But then everything went black.
When Frank awoke again, he knew two truths which the dragon had implanted into his mind and soul:
First, he had indeed been transported to another world, a world of monsters, magic, dragons, and cat people.
Second, the dragon had granted him the ability to turn anything he touched into rice.
"I don't even like rice very much," he mumbled.
And then a bear punched him in the face.
This is a stupid story. Thank you for reading. I'm co-writing a serious story with Hamapo called "Zombie Survival System" and you should check that one out too.