The Weekly Draconian: 7/30/14. Issue #4.

91st Annual Drake Games Kick Off

Columnist: Glen Greenscale

Editor: Krala the Terror

Yesterday on the Isle of Bootjaw, one of the greatest and strangest ceremonies of Drake culture was begun: The Annual Drake Games, put on by the King of Bootjaw, Bikro of the Two Syllables. This weeklong ceremony of games has drakes from all over the draconian world hearkening back to their homeland to celebrate this hallowed holiday.

The weeklong festival includes all sorts of professional competitions, from Sluj-drinking contests to burrowball to cheese wrestling. The events are all held within the Great Iq (Spelled I.Q.) Stadium on the Island of Bootjaw. The Drake National Anthem was sung yesterday to kick off the Games’ largest and most prestigious event: team meatball chess.

To an outsider, this sport is difficult to comprehend. What with the tail-chomping, potty-mouthed, meatball-flinging competitors, and the stark raving audience cheering them on, it’s understandably difficult to discern the exact rules of the competition. Unt, when asked what exactly the rules were, only shrugged, said, “What’s rules?” and kept cheering for her favorite team.

The Drake Games will wrap up next Tuesday with the Burrowball Tournament, in which the first one to find the golden ball buried underneath the playing field wins, there are no restrictions on violence, and all 9,000 audience members are also encouraged to compete. Needless to say, this holiday will not be without plenty of casualties. And a word of advice to tourists: do not, for the life of you, eat the food.

Reporting for The Weekly Draconian,

Glen Greenscale

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We hope you enjoyed that Weekly Draconian! More letters in Book Two will be up soon!

-JTZ Baner

the Daily Debacle

Routine Institute Inspection Goes Horribly Wrong…: Early the morning of the day precipitating another day that has naught to do with anything at hand, but we just thought we’d mentioned it, a convoy of Prison inspectors visited the Alpine Reforming Institute for the Dangerously Pointy--A.R.I.D.P. for short, ARID for shorter, and good old A for shortest--thinking it just a generic inspection, but soon to be proven very wrong.

            Primarily routine, an inspection comes by the Institute annually to make sure of ideal prison conditions, due to the high danger ratings of all those ensconced within the rocky, icy, mildly moldy walls.

            Passing through the wall guard easily, leaping over the piranha infested moat and stepping tentatively over the mine field surrounding the first picket line encircling the main building, the inspectors checked off security readiness with slightly sweating hands.

            Inside the main cell block, they visited each prisoner briefly, checked manacle tightness and wall hardness, and continued on.

            The trouble began with inmate #222, Eddie Clippermitts. While inspecting his cell, the inspectors were conned by the smooth talking scissor man into letting him polish their keys while they checked out how sturdy his lockable bathroom was.

            Having trapped the inspectors, Clippermitts vacated his cell and set about freeing his cellmates. After he past 17 in freed comrades, he became slightly bored and ran screaming for ketchup out into the heavily guarded compound.

            Making short work of the patrolling soldiers by clipping their hairstyles into 1960 classics. While the men-at-arms ran screaming around the compound, somersaulting over the mine field and diving into the moat, Clippermitts and his inmate buddies poll vaulted over the mines and leaped through the gates out into the cold mountains.

            Since then the escapees have been sited spelunking into mountain grottoes for diamonds, fending off police Sherpa’s, and buying vast amounts of heating pads from local mass producers.

            We suppose a lesson should be learned hear, invest in 60s hairstylists, their going fast. And quick! Buy stocks in fishing hooks and those small purple Furbies!

            Farewell for now, until we find something new to miscommunicate illustrate,

Written by Thiz Guy S. Massivh

Complimentary Columnist

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We all know of the Weekend Disaster Posts, and the newer, esteemed Sunday Fiasco publications. However, these posts serve only to ruin your weekends, and we think it only honorable and spiritually true to endeavor to ruin your week days to boot.
You may in time question the authenticity of the name Daily Debacle, as the vast majority of interesting incidents in the mythical spectrum are hushed up be benign and unnamed forces called the I.R.S., we will most likely only post around one or two a week, possibly meriting the change of the title to Morning Debacle, or In a Day or Two Debacle.

2014 Riddling Derby #5 RESULTS

Welcome, one and all, to the Iron Wyvern! In conclusion to the 5th riddling derby of 2014, I will now list the answers, the answerers, and the champion.

First off, our contestants for this week. We were a bit short on players this week. Feel free to tell your friends next time a riddling derby rolls around.

Contestants:
Juliet Lauser
Dmitri Pendragon

Riddle Number One (worth 1 point):
Mom and Dad have four daughters, and each daughter has one brother. How many people are in the family?

Answer Number One (a dead giveaway): Seven. Both of this weeks contestants answered this correctly.

Riddle Number Two (worth 1 point): 
You have six black socks, four brown socks, 8 white socks, and 2 tan socks, all in one drawer in the dark. How many do you have to pull out to know that you have two of at least one color?

Dmitri answered: Two, once you turn on the lights.
Juliet answered: Five, because there are only four different kinds of socks.

Unfortunately for Dmitri, we only specified that it was dark, NOT that specifically that the lights were turned off. Juliet actually solved the puzzle. This point goes to Juliet!

Riddle Number Three (worth 1 point):
Why can't Kevin Smith, who is living in Canada, be buried in the USA?

Answer Number Three: It is heavily frowned upon by authorities to bury people while they are still alive.
Both contestants got it right!

Bonus Riddle (worth 2 points):
What do the numbers 1961 and 6009 have in common, other than that they're both odd numbers?

Bonus Answer: They are both themselves when turned upside down. Both contestants got it right!

Final Point Tally
Dmitri Pendragon: 4
Juliet Lauser: 5

Congratulations, JULIET LAUSER, you are our 5th champion of 2014! Your name shall be inscribed in the Hall of Riddlers.
Dmitri Pendragon, since you thought of such a clever, out-of-the-box answer for #2, even though you did not win, you will be awarded an extra point in the next Riddling Derby in which you compete and thus have an advantage.

Now, thank you for reading and playing! I know the riddles weren't especially hard this time, but I will pick an even harder bonus riddle for next time. Enjoy your day!

The Weekly Draconian: 7/23/14. Issue #3.

Stolen M.D. Tied to Convicted Felon; Cristalitis Cured

Columnist: J. Edgar Spinetail
Editor: Krala the Terror

As cristalitis raged across the provinces these past few weeks and doctors raced to find a cure, the fiasco of the stolen medical doctorate was pushed into third-page headlines. However, a new incident came to light connecting the two events.

Riddling Derby #5 of 2014!

Welcome to the 5th Riddling Derby of 2014! That's if you count the Ogre Riddling Derby.
For all newcomers, here's how it goes:

A. I will give you three riddles to solve. Each is worth one point if you get it right.
B. This round, I'll give a special bonus riddle that's worth two. It'll be extra hard though.
C. Down at the bottom, I'll give three facts about all the dragons writing The Draconian Letters.
D. Comment with your answers to the riddles below. Whoever gets the most points wins and is commemorated in the Hall of Riddlers.

All right, let's start!

Book Two Letter Fifty

Readers, one and all, welcome to Iron Wyvern! As we have hinted in a previous post, Book Two of The Draconian Letters is being wrapped up, and will be done by the end of August. For the months of September and October, we will write Book One of our much-mumbled-about new project, Water Under the Bridge! Don't worry, we didn't forget about it. Starting in November, that will be posted regularly for the next few months. And then, coming in 2015...drumroll please...the new, improved BOOK THREE OF THE DRACONIAN LETTERS!!!!! Featuring Trubodox, Scaligar, and Semithino in new adventures.

Here is Scaligar's latest from the max security facility in the province of Zuul. Enjoy!

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My dear Smok,

It has come to my attention that I may have made a mistake in assaulting your uncle through the glass in the visiting room. It appears he has now been sentenced to 500 years in MY CELL. This is a terrible atrocity, and I have already contacted a lawyer to get him moved out of my cell as soon as draconianly possible.

Finale Extravaganza!!! (Letters 48 and 49)

Welcome to the final post in our First Annual Yolapalooza for Posts!!! Firstly, we have some letters you might want to read, inhale, ravage, like? Look at the bottom of the post for the true Finale to the day's works!
Enjoy, one, two and all!!!

What We Do in Our Spare Time - Stick shift, wizard, cake

1 A red stick shift

2 A wizard

3 And a piece of cake

Arnold swerved The Wizard around the bend, whizzing past a Maserati and into the main pack. As the track began to curve a sleek Thunderbird turned broadside on to Arnold’s car.

          Anticipating the ram, Arnold wrenched the red stick shift backwards and a blast of flame from his exhaust pipe propelled him forward, while the Thunderbird swerved off the track and onto the grassy shoulder.

          The stands erupted for Arnold as his spurt of speed sent him flying into the front runners. But the race wasn't over yet, that flame propulsion had been meant for the final lap, and there was still two to go.

          The leading car, a black Ferrari with a long stripe across its top, obviously spotted The Wizard coming up fast. Lunging ahead into open track, it spun in a tight circle and shot a massive pie from a large gun that had appeared atop it chassis.

Book Two Letter Forty-Seven (Yolapalooza for Posts)

Welcome to Iron Wyvern, ladies and gentlegerms! Here we have another letter from Scaligar to his nephew Smok in the Yolapalooza for Posts! Enjoy, comment, fire, sharp objects, etc., and don't forget to watch out for hamsters.

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My dear Smok,

As you may have noticed, I am in jail. I have been for the past two months been incarcerated on unfounded and deeply crazed accusations. Only now have they allowed me to put out any correspondence whatsoever, on account of my bribing the prison cook, Lenny the Wannabe, to deliver them. His food tastes awful, but he is necessary for getting letters out to you. Perhaps you wondered why this letter was hidden inside a cheaply baked fruit cake with sauerkraut substituted for cherries.

The Sunday Fiasco

Wyvern’s Migration Goose is Cooked: In the early hours of the day hitherto known as Sunday, but after which called the Deceased, a fiasco like none other recorded shattered, smashed and rampaged the quiet province of Bombay; the well known coastal town characterized by its lovely tropical black sand beaches, its sinister bubbling volcano, and the annual spectacle of the Wyvern Rush, the manifested bulk of the Wyvernical populace and its travel from the cold northern mountains to the slightly damp Yovian hillsides.

            The fuse for the fiasco was lit as fiascoes often are with an addled Eastern cartographer, who mistook a Sludge stain on his new migratory trajectories map to be the main line of geese migration that year.

            Escalating the fiasco further, the cartographer hastened to I.P. (Instant Pearl) the Great Honker of the geese herds to make sure he understood the wiles of changing his main flight path so drastically, as it coincided directly with the migratory path of the Wyverns, directly above Bombay.

            Thinking this a great idea, having not discovered the benefits of a second opinion, his Supreme Honkitonk changed his charts to match the Easterners, and continued on with his day.

            All of these stunning facts are news to everyone, but the next and finalizing chapter of the fiasco we all know slightly better thanks to the cursed convenient NEWS Pearl and Crystal apps.

            Crowds quickly congregated on the shady beaches of Bombay to witness the spectacle fo the Wyvern Rush. As the first crowd of V-formation Wyverns glided over (singing their famous ‘Icicles and Refrigerated Stalactites’ Migration Chorus), the fiasco seemed to have been averted. But as the main crowd rushed overhead, a sinister quack and the flapping of many wings sounded the bell of renewed fiasco…ness.

            Perfectly timed as any fiasco could be; the brunt V formation of migrating geese crashed into the main W formation of migration Wyverns.

            The air soon became a battlefield, dissolving into Chase the Big Pigeons, and Fly Quacking from the Mean Dragons. Geese fell like confetti from the skies, and Wyverns dove like maddened fishers.

Unfortunately, the fiasco was only beginning, which is convenient, but gives us more stuff to write about, and makes a smashing fiasco.

            One of the aforementioned falling geese, toppled in a diagonal course surmounted with a sort of spinning flop, which landed it straight into the famous Bombay volcano, Mt. Cornelius, well known for its tendency not to erupt, and a slightly smoking crater.

            Unfortunately, volcanoes don’t like geese jumping on them, and it presently erupted, sending a massive lava flow down the mountain towards the crowded streets, and several flaming meteors toward the traffic jammed skies.

            Fortunately, the conflagrating fiascoes helped to avert one another, as several of the Wyverns thought they had it in them to become X-treme Fire Swallowers, and while flaming Wyverns flew to and fro to stop the blaze, the geese did overhead flights to help douse the flames using their own ‘personal’ anti-fire capabilities.

            Bombay was saved! With the help of two unusual allies, it had prevailed, which just goes to show that our paper is better than those $#&^$@ apps because fiascoes sometimes help out other fiascoes as fiascoes often time hide a better fiasco within another fiasco.

            Until our next report,

            The Post 

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Third post and counting in the Yolapalooza for Posts! Suggestions, questions, criticisms and political rallies are welcome! 

High Nooners

If we may be so bold as to quote Arnold Schwarzenegger; 'we're back!'. Copyrights forced us to change it....
Anyway, as I said in the morning post, we will have several posts on the calends of the afternoon. and so, to begin. 

Firstly, this High Nooner is only the lip of the ice burger, as its Draconian Letter will start off a series of posts throughout the afternoon, which shall start with something called a Sunday Fiasco (think Weekend Disaster Post), will flow on through a Riddling Derby, probably several more letters, and on and on, etc..until the Finale Extravaganza, where we'll most likely crown a winner, pop a few balloons, and so on.

Lets get to the letter.

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Dear Smok,

Perhaps you are wondering why I haven’t written in such an extended period. As your other uncles seem indisposed, allow me to explain our letters’ ‘leave of absence’ per se.

Let me say first our justice system is cracked. Wouldn't you say the flight to a damsel’s cave to save her from bloodthirsty monosyllabics merits above 45 MPH?!

 But no, when I was half way to your old cave, flying slightly higher than my temporarily allied brothers, a pair of Skyway patroldragons intercepted me, one trying to handcuff me while the other accused me of flying ten over the provincial speed limit.

I of course was most courteous, poking the cuffer in the eye with one wingtip I bashed Mr. Riot Act upside the snout and the chase was on! Alright, they caught me within fifty tail lengths, and just managed to take me in.

The next indignity was that the judge sentenced me to a life’s sentence of eight months in the county jail! I couldn’t have that, as my warranty on Incinerating Quarterly was about to run out, and that last issue is always a doozie.

          And so I set about working out a masterful plan for my escape from the jail. I was kept under strict guard of course, they knowing my reputation, and locked in a maximum security cell on the jail roof. The skylight was nice for a view, but moving on.

          I quickly accumulated a brilliant plan, which worked out to the letter in execution.

          Stage One: I collapsed in my cell, throwing in a strangled cry of anguished pain for good measure.

          Stage Two: That done, I got up, bashed the wall to pieces, knocked out the guard and ended the day with a mass breakout of all the inmates.

          Stage Three: Once safely out, I stole found a convenient heard of goats and bombarded the inmates until they gave up and went back inside the jail.

Brilliant. Sometimes I surprise even myself with my originality.

But the far greater trouble I had forgotten that I had broken out to preserve was the captive princess Limmie the Mildly Cute! Most likely your other uncles had bungled the operation without me, and I flew swiftly to her cave, anticipating a terrible tragedy.

However, it was even worse than I had thought. Those two catch cloths had succeeded without me!!! The ground shook with the indignity of it…

Unfortunately, it seems your uncles were arrested on charges of destroying the pieces after their rescue of your date. How terrible! How awful! This is fabulous an unfounded disaster! My heart was torn asunder.

Thankfully my heart heals fast and I got it all in perspective. That perspective I shall not entail to you my nephew, as it isn’t appropriate for those below 300 as there is a life lesson to be learned in here.

I’ll get back to you on that,

Your mourning and appreciative uncle,

Trubodox the Scarlet

          

         P.S. Oh, and by the way, Limme the Mildly Cute was found wandering the hills of Yovi by Slimtail the Thickheaded. Seems she was a mite delirious, muttering about flying pigs and fiery beans.

          P.P.S. Most intriguing.

          P.P.P.S. I believe I’ll investigate

          P.P.P.P.S. More into

P.P.P.P.P.S. Your erstwhile uncles

P.P.P.P.P.P.S. imprisonment.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Could be

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Interesting

Welcome to the Yolapalooza for Posts!

Friends, bloggers, followers, lend me your ears! I come not to bury the blog, but to have people read it!
Allow me to introduce the rules for today's posts. Over the course of the morning and afternoon we three will be posting contests, letters and possible a lovely hampster biography. The rules and sanctions are simple and go as follows.
1. Read!
2. Enjoy!
3. Um....read? (possibly comment?) help me out here...
and so without further digress, let introduce the latest, and long anticipated Draconian Letter!!!!! Book Two Letter Forty-Five!
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My dearest nephew,

My sincerest and most genuine apologies for my late lapse in communication, the only excuse that I can give you is that for the last few months I have been in prison.

Shocking as this may seem it is in all truth a fact. I believe you last heard from your uncle Trubodox (ah, or maybe it was Scaligar), when he told you of our rescue plans of Limmie the Mildly Cute. It is from this act of valor that all the grief and plumbing issues of the past few months flowed.

I will not go into any great detail on the subject of the events that followed Scaligar and my entrance into the cave where the Drakes were and shall go further as to say that nothing can be conclusively proven about it and that those claw prints could belong to anyone. Oh and Bunt of the Recently Fractured Vertebras is lying…as are both of his eye witnesses.       
Anyway on to the rest of the tale. As you doubtless heard from your uncle Trubodox, he and your uncle Scaligar and myself all flew off to rescue Limmie when we heard of her capture. Upon arriving and, er, dealing with the situation at claw, your uncle and myself were arrested on baseless charges such as assault and battery, property destruction, disturbance of the peace, harming foreign citizens, excessively pyromania, and pig hurling.

      Your uncle Trubodox never managed to be charged in this way as he was apprehended before he even reached our destination and arrested for speeding on the Skyway, flying at unhealthy troposphere related altitudes, and vehemently resisting arrest. The rest of his story I will give over to him in his next letter.

    Your uncle and I were taken by the officers of the law to the nearest courthouse, tried, convicted and sentenced to six months time within the remarkable time span of 45 seconds.

Now I know what you’re thinking, that it has not been a full six months since I last sent you a letter and you would be quite right to think this as it is the truth. However, there were certain circumstances surrounding my release that explains this apparent cosmic mistake in very, um, physical terms.

As you may remember I am a good friend of the Draconian camouflage artist Morflix the imperceptible. As you may or may not know Morflix is also a highly accredited lawyer. When I asked him for his assistance in my situation he agreed immediately and came to my aid.

Once he had managed to get my case bumped up to the next available it was a simple matter to siguise himself as an inmate and stage a prison riot as I just happened to be making my way under escort to the courthouse from the prison.

And there you are my young nephew, the reason that I have not sent so much as a postcard (prisons have no postcards, silly Dragon) for months.

Don’t ask me how your other uncles are faring I have no idea at the moment being on the run as I am not in a position where I can come by such information at the moment.

Until the next time,

Your humble servant, mentor and uncle,

       Semithino

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And so it begins! Next post at high noon, don't miss it! comment and enjoy!

Post Yolapalooza!

For today we've found an appropriate post on taking life at a more comfortable, calmer level. if your thinking we are doing this to lower the threats of attack lest we post a Draconian Letter, this is entirely, utterly, and completely wrong...
Stay calm now....
Anyway, onward and downward to the distraction timely post for the day.
Ahem...

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 ZEN FOR THOSE WHO TAKE LIFE TOO SERIOUSLY

1. SAVE THE WHALES. COLLECT THE WHOLE SET.

2. A DAY WITHOUT SUNSHINE IS LIKE, NIGHT.

3. ON THE OTHER HAND, YOU HAVE DIFFERENT FINGERS.

4. I JUST GOT LOST IN THOUGHT. IT WASN'T FAMILIAR TERRITORY.

5. 42.7 PERCENT OF ALL STATISTICS ARE MADE UP ON THE SPOT.

6. 99 PERCENT OF LAWYERS GIVE THE REST A BAD NAME.

7. I FEEL LIKE I'M DIAGONALLY PARKED IN A PARALLEL UNIVERSE.

8. HONK IF YOU LOVE PEACE AND QUIET.

9 REMEMBER, HALF THE PEOPLE YOU KNOW ARE BELOW AVERAGE.

10. HE WHO LAUGHS LAST, THINKS SLOWEST.

11. DEPRESSION IS MERELY ANGER WITHOUT ENTHUSIASM.

12. THE EARLY BIRD MAY GET THE WORM, BUT THE SECOND MOUSE GETS THE CHEESE.

13. I DRIVE WAY TOO FAST TO WORRY ABOUT CHOLESTEROL.

14. SUPPORT BACTERIA. THEY'RE THE ONLY CULTURE SOME PEOPLE HAVE.

15. MONDAY IS AN AWFUL WAY TO SPEND 1/7 OF YOUR WEEK.

16. A CLEAR CONSCIENCE IS USUALLY THE SIGN OF A BAD MEMORY.

17. CHANGE IS INEVITABLE, EXCEPT FROM VENDING MACHINES

18. GET A NEW CAR FOR YOUR SPOUSE. (IT'LL BE A GREAT TRADE!)

19. PLAN TO BE SPONTANEOUS TOMORROW.

20. ALWAYS TRY TO BE MODEST, AND BE PROUD OF IT!

21. IF YOU THINK NOBODY CARES, TRY MISSING A COUPLE OF PAYMENTS.

22. HOW MANY OF YOU BELIEVE IN PSYCHO-KINESIS? RAISE MY HAND.

23. OK, SO WHAT'S THE "SPEED OF DARK"?

24. HOW DO YOU TELL WHEN YOU'RE OUT OF INVISIBLE INK?

25. IF EVERYTHING SEEMS TO BE GOING WELL, YOU HAVE OBVIOUSLY OVERLOOKED SOMETHING.

26. WHEN EVERYTHING IS COMING YOUR WAY, YOU'RE IN THE WRONG LANE.

27. HARD WORK PAYS OFF IN THE FUTURE. LAZINESS PAYS OFF NOW.

28. EVERYONE HAS A PHOTOGRAPHIC MEMORY. SOME JUST DO NOT HAVE ANY FILM.

29. IF BARBIE IS SO POPULAR, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BUY HER FRIENDS?

30. HOW MUCH DEEPER WOULD THE OCEAN BE WITHOUT SPONGES?

31. EAGLES MAY SOAR, BUT WEASELS DO NOT GET SUCKED INTO JET ENGINES.

32. WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU GET SCARED HALF TO DEATH TWICE?

33. I USED TO HAVE AN OPEN MIND BUT MY BRAINS KEPT FALLING OUT.

34. I COULDN'T REPAIR YOUR BRAKES, SO I MADE YOUR HORN LOUDER.

35. WHY DO PSYCHICS HAVE TO ASK YOU FOR YOUR NAME?

36. INSIDE EVERY OLDER PERSON IS A YOUNGER PERSON WONDERING WHAT HAPPENED

37. JUST REMEMBER - IF THE WORLD DID NOT SUCK, WE WOULD ALL FALL OFF.

38. LIGHT TRAVELS FASTER THAN SOUND, WHICH IS WHY SOME PEOPLE APPEAR BRIGHT UNTIL YOU HEAR THEM SPEAK.

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As you most likely forgot, don't worry we did too we don't blame mild amnesia, we missed our blogging anniversary last month, but we shall not be daunted by our your mistakes!

On the 20th of this month we will give a massive post which shall include at least two letters of TDL, several appreciative notices, and probably something equally awesome, but only with suggestions from all you guys discerning these letters!

Comment with your suggestions, be it short story, secret files, weekend disaster post, or atomic hamster notices, and may the best one get a spot in our FIRST EVER SECOND ANNIVERSARY YOLAPALOOZA(for posts)!!!!
(and maybe even more..!...)