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Deep in the dark mountains, where the clouds hung like blankets over the peaks, lived a giant dragon. His scales shimmered like green emeralds, and even when he slept, tiny puffs of smoke rose from his nostrils.
The dragon slept for a very long time — in fact, for a hundred years at a time. He was curled up tightly inside a rocky cave, and once every hundred years, a mighty GRRROOOAAAAR! echoed through the mountains as he woke.
This morning was no exception.
“Oh, my stomach!” roared the dragon, scratching at his scales. “I’m SO hungry! I need breakfast!”
He stretched his wings, sending rocks tumbling down the mountainside, and began lumbering toward the village below. Each heavy step made the ground shake. Sheep ran in panic, chickens flapped away, and all the villagers hid behind their curtains.
All except one.
In the middle of the town square stood a small boy with freckles and a piece of bread in his hand. His name was Alfred.
When the dragon saw him, he licked his lips.
“Mmm,” growled the dragon with a deep rumble in his belly. “A boy for breakfast!”
“Don’t eat me!” shouted Alfred, raising his hands. “I can get you something much tastier to eat!”
The dragon stopped and raised an eyebrow. “Better than a crunchy little boy?”
“Yes!” said Alfred quickly. “Come with me.”
They walked through the village — or rather, Alfred walked, and the dragon stomped behind him, kicking up clouds of dust with every step.
At Alfred’s house, they set the table. The dragon sat down (and broke two chairs immediately), while Alfred hurried to serve food.
First, the dragon ate three large plates of chicken and rice. He swallowed them in seconds.
“I’m still hungry,” he grumbled.
Then he ate five bags of noodles and ten sausages, but his stomach still rumbled like thunder.
“I think we’ll have to go to the restaurant,” said Alfred nervously.
They went to the village’s little restaurant, where the chef fainted at the sight of the dragon.
The dragon helped himself, gobbling down twenty meatballs, fifty fish balls, and twelve bags of sticky rice.
Then he found the dessert cart and devoured six puddings and an entire cake.
“I’m… still… a bit hungry,” he muttered, rubbing his belly.
Alfred sighed. “Then we’ll have to visit the grocery store.”
At the grocer’s, the dragon ate all the fruit and vegetables — mangoes and bananas, tomatoes, cabbage, mushrooms, and beans. Even the cauliflower disappeared!
Now the store was empty.
The dragon sighed with satisfaction, but then his stomach growled again. “Just a little bit more…”
Alfred felt in his pockets. There was only one thing left — a small piece of candy he had saved from the day before. A shiny, round strawberry sweet.
“Here,” he said, holding it out. “It’s all I have left.”
The dragon pinched the candy between two claws and eyed it suspiciously.
“So tiny? That can’t possibly make a difference.”
He popped it into his mouth.
At first, nothing happened.
Then the dragon began to tremble.
“Hmm… it… tickles… a bit,” he said.
Then came a BANG! — and a huge cloud of smoke shot up into the sky!
When the smoke cleared, Alfred stood in a mountain of confetti and sugar shards. The dragon was gone.
“HURRAY!” shouted Alfred. “The dragon is gone! No more boys for breakfast!”
The villagers came out of their homes, cheering and laughing.
And from that day on, Alfred was known as the boy who defeated the hungry dragon — with a single piece of candy.
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