The Last Dragonslayer

---

1

Open up, in the name of

His Royal Wondrousness, King Snodd!

Alright, guv...

Blow, blow, blow on snow.

My wish will come tomorrow!

I want a bear.

Now you, Jennifer.

Snow-wishes are for babies.

Gimme a break. I'm only seven.

All right, Tiger.

I wish that none of us

are sent to the Troll Wars.

Oh, I... I wish for that as well.

Obviously.

Then you should behave yourself.

Next time someone picks you,

don't steal their cakes.

You don't think

they will come after me?

Er, Happy Festivus, Mr Brittles.

I bring a gift for the orphans from

His Royal Wondrousness, King Snodd.

How kind.

The children will write

and thank him.

Well, goodnight then.

Our business is not concluded.

Track him down

and ask him in person myself...

Every child in my orphanage

is of exemplary character!

- Lies!

That is absolutely not proven!

Rejected orphans belong to the King!

Now listen up,

all you horrible, parentless, unloved

and rejected little things!

One of you ate cakes

that did not belong to you.

That child now belongs to the King.

Which one of you was it?

Undisciplined!

You'll learn discipline

on the battlefront fighting trolls!

Was it you?

What's your name?

G... G... G... Gordon.

G... G... G... Gordon.

Which child ate cake, Gordon?

I want an answer

or I'll take every child in here!

Five! Four! Three!

Was it you, boy?

Say it! Say it!

It was me.

Errant girl. Come to Mr Brittles.

Come on then.

Yes. I can see it in you.

Something that

hasn't been broken in.

But they'll fix that.

No! No! No! She's lying!

It was me!

Shut up, Tiger. Lie down.

He'll take you both... Lie down.

No! I ate the cake. I did! Me!

Bring her!

Jennifer! Jennifer!

Please, Mr Brittles. Jennifer is...

Mine. She's mine. One more word

and I'll take them all, I swear it.

Jennifer!

Come on!

Wait 'til you get to the Troll Wars.

Minus 50 degrees in summer.

Your tears freeze

on your cheekbones.

Good evening.

I've come to select an orphan

for, er... indentured servitude.

Talk to the old hag.

Well, as it happens,

I'm rather keen on the girl

that you are about to put

in that cage.

Too bad. She belongs to the King.

She looks cold.

You ought to provide her with a coat.

Lock her in. Let's get going.

To cage a 12-year-old girl,

it's... it's unpleasant.

But to deny her a coat

is downright cruel.

Oh... I'll take that as a compliment.

Jennifer deserves better,

don't you think?

Remind me, Miss Strange.

What was it that your friend

made his, erm, snow-wish for?

He wished for a bear.

A bear?

Polar or grizzly?

Brown bear or black'?

Magic requires precision!

Erm... Polar!

One final thing, Mr Brittles.

I've made you into a bear. Sorry.

But now I will make you into

a gentleman.

Offer the lady your coat.

Oh, come, come...

There we go.

Oh yes... Good.

What's going to happen to me?

I am the Great Zambini

and you, Miss Strange,

will be my new assistant.

Where are we going?

You'll see. You'll see.

These magical barrier stones...

prevent humans

from entering the Dragonlands.

What's inside them?

Dragons. Look!

They are the soul of magic, Jennifer.

But they're dying out.

This is my life's work.

We must do something to help them.

Will you assist me

in my endeavours, Miss Strange?

Oh good.

Good.

And more of those, thank you.

Welcome to Gazam,

an employment agency for sorcerers.

The last of its kind

in the Kingdom of Hereford.

I employ two full-time practitioners.

The wizard Moobin

and the venerable Lady Mawgon.

They are both rather odd

but then they're wizards,

so it's to be expected.

Welcome aboard, Jennifer.

This is a house Moobin, not a ship.

Come on, let's get some tea.

Zambini Towers has been

their home and mine for many years.

And now. Jennifer.

It will be your home as well,.

Wizidrical power is limited, you see.

We can only use what's available.

So we measure it using this...

But magic is waning

and work is drying up.

These days. drain cleaner

is cheaper than a spell

electricity is all the rage

even magic carpets have been reduced

to delivering pizzas.

Powerful wizards who could

once control the weather

now scratch a living

doing home improvements

plumbing and rewiring.

Enchanted gutter cleaning and party tricks.

Yet the magic of

the Dragonlands boundary stones

is as strong as ever

and a good thing too

as land is valuable

and the kingdom is greedy.

As our indentured orphan

you are to be entrusted with

a small creature of your own.

The Quarkbeast.

Fiercely loyal and. well. just fierce.

If you work diligently. study hard

and tolerate an employer

who's obsessed by dragons

we hope your time at Gazam

will be happy and lasting.

Don't get any closer.

Seven-point-three.

- Seven-point-three.

Mm-hmm.

- That's low.

There's been no sign of Finklehorn

since last winter.

If he's died,

that only leaves Maltcassion.

And... he's very old.

I wonder if the dragons dying out

is causing the decline of magic?

What?

- You've become rather clever.

I have some business to attend in town.

- Can I come with you?

Not on this occasion, no.

See you at home then.

I'm roasting mutton for dinner.

Mmm! In that case,

I shall return with an appetite!

Look for anything

that might explain where he's gone!

Look! Look!

His favourite shoes are missing!

I think those were on his feet.

Zambini!

Zambini!

Hello? Zambini?

There must be a spell you could do.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes