The Hobbit: A Stupid Journey

Chapter Ten: The Dragon Battle and the Brink of War

Thrashing continued his search long into the night until with an anguished howl he proclaimed, “Whoever’s got my bloody gem will pay with their bloody blood!”

Bibbo patted the Arkenstone thoughtfully in his pocket. Then he went for a nap.

With a loud crack, Gander appeared in the treasure chamber amid a flash of yellow light. He gazed about at all the gold and smiled.

Thrashing immediately smacked him in the back of the ankle with his war axe. “You took it, didn’t you? You stole the great big diamond!”

“No,” said Gander. “I came to tell you that the people of Dale are being burned and slaughtered in the Lake below us.”

Thrashing chuckled, momentarily forgetting about his father’s gem. “I planned that, see, as a distraction for Smitty’s.”

Gander rolled his eyes. Thrashing noticed the snail-killing-swallow on his shoulder and backed up a step. “Careful, that bird’s a murderous little bugger.”

“Yes,” said Gander. He whispered something in the bird’s ear.

Bibbo padded over and whispered something in Gander’s ear. Gander nodded and whispered something in the bird’s ear. The bird took off and flew out of the cave.

Thrashing stared at both of them. “I hate you all.”

The bird flew down the mountain and saw a huge inferno. The dragon was circling about and with another breath blew up the pub. Several patrons with beer mugs still clutched in their hands sailed 173 ft. into the air on the updraft of the explosion before lighting up like matches.

The bird circled but could not find the person it was looking for. It then noticed a barrel shuffling and swooped down low. Under the barrel, Darren of the Bow was hiding. Nearly everyone else was burned or dead by this point. The bird whispered something in his ear.

“You don’t say,” said Darren. “You say there’s a hole in the dragon’s armor on his belly which no one has spotted because they’re all idiots?”

The bird nodded.

“Right.” Inside the barrel, Darren held up a black arrow. “This arrow, I spent, like, forever looking for it each time I lost it. It’s killed, like, everyone. It’s so good, man, I’m not even going to lie.” He chucked the barrel off, inadvertently dropping it on the tiny bird who died. “Hey dragon!” Darren yelled, and immediately regretted it.

The dragon, Smitty’s, swooped down toward him. “You dare challenge, me? Me who could destroy your entire country in a half second? Prepare to get owned in extraordinary fashion.”

Darren quivered and whimpered, nearly pissing his pants. “Mummy.” His knees wobbled. He tried to fit the arrow to his bow, but he dropped it. He snatched up the black arrow and, eyes closed out of fear, fired.

Luckily Smitty’s swooped into the path of the misfired arrow. “Just to show off my impenetrable scales, see?” he explained to Darren.

The arrow flew straight through the hole in his armor, through his heart, and stuck in the other side. The dragon roared so loudly that half the village went deaf. He hit the water with a sound like a submarine being struck with a torpedo containing a nuclear warhead. After the waves, all was still amid the burning wreckage.

Darren saved what he could, was called the dragon slayer, and was named king of the village of Dale.

The next morning the dwarves were up on the wall, in their very expensive new armor, bright and early.

A rag-tag band of humans came out to meet them. Darren thrust his bow up at the dwarves on the wall. “I demand half your treasure to rebuild our ravaged town, O’ Dwarf.”