A great and terrible dragon was rampaging its way through the back garden of number 42 Pemberley Road. It sent a pile of frost-covered leaves scattering as it reared its head, bared its teeth and roared, a cloud of smoke pluming from its mouth and lingering in the air. The dragon grinned, satisfied, as next door’s cat let out a wail of alarm and hopped off the fence.
The back door opened and a far larger beast stepped out into the cold. A cloud of grey dragons breath lingered around its head as it roared:
“Joseph, it’s time for dinner!”
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