One winter in the northern climes of Scotland, two dragons sat around their mountain lair, contemplating their empty larder.
“Bummer,” said Azkook, gazing glumly into the pantry. “Not even any dried human jerky or jellied knees left.”
“What happened to our backup supply?” asked Razkook.
Azkook looked at his scaly toes guiltily. “I was watching Top Chef Dragons the other night and got hungry.”
Razkook threw his wings up in the air. “Well, you have to go hunting first then. I’m going back to sleep.” The older dragon lumbered off to his lair and slept for the next thirty days while Azkook flew out over the nearby town of Lochmarnoch, looking for chubby schoolboys and stout sheepherders.
“How’s it going?” Razkook asked him, stretching his neck as he awoke from his nap.
“They’re catching on to me,” said Azkook. “People have stopped going out alone, even to take out the garbage.”
Razkook took stock of the filets and cutlets in the fridge. “Only half-full, we’ll run out before winter ends. Why don’t we wait til the humans have a big event in one place? We’ll go out together and swoop up the lot – that should set us straight for winter.”
The two dragons began to survey the residents of Lochmarnoch and soon discovered that the townsfolk gathered every Sunday in the central square in a white building with a steeple on top of it.
“Great,” said Razkook. “We’ll just knock off the steeple, open it up, and eat all the people.”
With the plan in place, the two dragons set out the next Sunday for town. “Can we take the scenic route?” begged Azkook. Razkook groaned. He was hungry and wanted to get back to the lair in time to watch Lair Hunters International, but he agreed and soon they were flying over snow-capped hills and green valleys, down the jagged desolate coast until they hit Loch Marnoch itself.
“What’s that?” The dragons pulled up short and gazed at a small brick cottage on the lake’s shore. There was a puff of smoke rising up from the short chimney.
“I didn’t know anyone lived here. Should we…?” Azkook licked his lips and looked questioningly at Razkook.
“Nah, it’s probably just some old lodger, not even a mouthful. Come on, we gotta get to the church before it’s too late.”
But as they flew over the cottage, a bit of chimney smoke flew directly up Azkook’s cavernous nostrils. “Mmm…smells so good…”
Before Razkook could stop him, Azkook swerved downwards and banged his snout against the cottage door. “Excuse me!” he shouted. “Are you cooking in there?”
An old lady popped her head out the door and squinted at the two dragons. “WHY HELLO,” she shouted. “YOU’RE JUST IN TIME FOR SOME OF MY AWARD-WINNING SHORTBREAD.”
“Why is she shouting,” whispered Azkook to Razkook. “She’s hurting my ears.”
“She must be hard of hearing,” said Razkook. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
But a plate of buttery, flaky-looking cookies suddenly appeared in front of them, and Azkook couldn’t stop himself. He snapped half the biscuits into his mouth and tail-kicked the rest over to Razkook. “HAVE SOME TEA,” shouted Dame Edna. “YOU CAN’T HAVE SHORTBREAD WITHOUT TEA.” As the dragons munched on the cookies and sipped their tea, a look of peace came over their crusty faces.
“This is wonderful,” said Razkook. “Better than human.”
“Much better,” replied Azkook.
“WHAT?” shouted Dame Edna, holding her hand up to her ear. “DIDN’T QUITE CATCH THAT.”
“WE ASKED IF WE COULD HAVE SOME MORE!” shouted back Azkook.
“I’LL WHIP UP ANOTHER BATCH IF YOU’LL JUST FETCH ME SOME CHICKENS FOR DINNER!”
The two dragons did better than that. They stayed on at the cottage, hunting and butchering livestock for Dame Edna and eating their weight in shortbread, becoming pleasantly plump and buttery and never again terrorizing the residents of Lochmarnoch.
- Mix all the ingredients together with a fork/pastry blender until they reach a large crumble consistency.
- Press lightly into an 8x8 round pan, and dust w/ cinnamon.
- Cook for 25-30 minutes at 350 degrees Fahrenheit. While cooling, cut into wedges/poke decorative holes with a fork/chopstick. Share with any and all dragon friends.