Listen my children, as I tell the story of Bob—the bumbling dragon slayer.
And his adventures with his little bro, Bill, the bad bug baker.
Listen close because the motto, sadly, it is true.
It’s in this story—a legend of bravery, courage, and a tale of daring-do.
“Bill,” Bob said, “they are in need; my people call to me.
To free them from an evil dragon and their hero be.
Just as I slew the sinister beast sent here from the devil’s star.”
I wish, Bill thought, Bob could comprehend—it was just a green parked car.“
And I killed the evil snake,” Bob said, “and the giant frog.”
No, Bill thought, it wasn’t a frog—it was a tree and a fallen log.
I hope he doesn’t break a window again and make me concoct a lie.
Like when I said, “Officer, “I saw a giant in there, and that manikin had to die.”
People call him Bob the brave, the valiant dragon slayer.
And his brother, Bill—the coward, fool, and the bad bug baker.”
Now what do I do, because this time the dragon’s real.
It has two heads, breaths of fire, and scales as hard as steel.
They would soon be burnt like toast and as dead as an orange peel.
Or torn to shreds cooked over a pit and become a dragon’s meal.
Bob picked up the shovel and yelled “Beast, beware my silver sword.”
With that, Bob shouldered his sword and marched off to face the beast.
Oh boy, Bill thought, before we die I think we need a priest.
He never hears a word I say—He thinks he’s a dragon slayer.
I will always be called his little bro, Bill the fool, and bad bug baker.
Bill followed behind his big bro Bob, as he always did—
Carrying his satchel of big bad bugs, his ego and his id.
This is a knight, the Dragon thought; At least it looks like one.
And though it looks so very strange–this fight will soon be won.
He breathed a blast of fire at where a knight would stay.
But when it hit, where it should be—Bob had moved the other way.
Though he tried with claws and fire—somehow he always missed.
And with every miss the dragon’s anger grew—and that dragon was really pissed.
When he reached back a head and screamed an angry roar,
Bill saw a chance—to do his thing with the mouth like an open door.
As Bob flailed his shovel wild—always missed the Demon’s mug.
Bill threw into the open mouth—a frozen yellow slug.
And for good measure he tossed in two flies and a potato bug.
The dragon reeled back when the poison hit and screamed an evil cry.
Then by dumb luck, Bob’s shovel somehow hit the dragon in an eye.
Then Bill saw a chance, an opening he had to try.
Bill lept into the dragon’s mouth with a jump most deft,
And dumped into the dragon’s throat every bug that he had left.
The demon shook his head violently up, down, left, and right—
But Bill held onto the demon’s tongue with all his strength and all his might.
Bob kept on swinging his shovel sword as the dragon putrefied.
But his mind could not know or comprehend that the dragon had up and died.
“Bob stop, look, you’ve won,” Bill took a deep breath and said.
“You are the victor, and once more, you’ve killed a dragon dead.”
When Bob saw that the battle was o’er he shouldered his shovel, sword—
And marched into his town to accept a hero’s just reward.
The praises of the people who cheered, “The dragon’s life he did take—
And had to put up with his brother, Bill, the liar, fool, and fake.”
Now, forever Bob will be known as the strong brave dragon slayer.
Who had to put up with his little bro the coward and fool—Bill the bad bug baker.
Now this is the motto and sadly, it is true.
And beware and look out because it can happen to you.
There will be times when you do your best, and though you know it’s true—
Some will think that you lie—No matter what good you do.
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