The Ballad of Billy and the Green Dragon
The village was quiet on the first day of Spring,
as a great shadow loomed and the birds ceased to sing,
when right in the square there landed a dragon.
It roared out then scratched at its nose with its talon.
This sudden arrival suspended the snickers
of the boys watching Joan as she hung out her knickers.
The young, courting couples were terribly flustered
as their coitus became coitus interruptus.
The villagers screamed as the dragon did say:
“I’m not going to kill you – at least not today.
No village survives unless it can pay me.
I’ll be back in three days for a newly born baby.”
With a flap of its wings it took to the air
as the horrified villagers screamed down the square.
“We’ve only three days and the dragon will eat us
and we don’t have a baby, or even a fetus.”
But Billy, the blacksmith’s boy, said,”I’ve a plan.
bring me all of the smelliest food that you can.”
He raided Joan’s clothes line, a peg for to borrow
and plugged up his rectum (his face full of sorrow).
For three days and nights the boy ate all he could
from mouldy old sausages, eggs – bad and good,
olives and anchovies, Camembert cheese,
grease that the old ladies smeared on their knees.
After seventeen Big Macs and twenty McFlurrys
he stuffed down samosas and six Madras curries.
He ate fifteen cabbages and, when he was done,
he could feel a strong pressure building up in his bum.
On the very third day Billy felt he was ready.
He stood in the town square and patted his belly.
The green dragon landed and said, “Where’s my baby?”
The boy turned and cried, “Oh my God! Someone save me!”
The dragon did laugh in between all his roars
but he failed to spot Billy who was dropping his draws.
The peg darted out as he reached for his toes.
It flew at the dragon and went right up its nose.
Billy’s behind let out fart after guff,
spraying the dragon with monstrous stuff:
streams of black diarrhea, yellowy pus,
unbroken remnants of sweetcorn and nuts.
“You’ll burn for this insult,” the dragon did roar.
It opened its huge jaws, a breath for to draw.
Billy pulled up his trousers and ran for his life
as the hot dragon fire made the methane ignite.
The dragon exploded and the people did sing
all the houses were covered in feces and wing.
They picked up its head, stuck it high on a pike
right next to the knickers (which Joan didn’t like).
And Billy the hero sat low in the grass.
He picked a fresh dock leaf and cleaned up his arse.
So rise from your seats. Come lift up your flagon
and toast the great arsehole that slew the green dragon.