[This handwritten story of revenge and mayhem stars and purports to be the work of Chesh. Specifically, that would be Chesh the Plushie.]
Chesh drew his crossbow and scoffed at the dragon’s threats.
“Scoff!” said Chesh. “I, Sir Chesh Snuggywums Cutie-Tootie Wubwub Widdle Huggable Longbranch, have the aim of an Exile Spellslinger and the heart of a fierce jungle cat! I also have the Magic Crossbow of Heroic Purpose and Bravery! As you know, this
makes me quite handsome! And deadly.”
“Then you will find that plushies can be both flammable… and inflammable!” snarled the dragon.
“Anything can be both flammable and inflammable, dragon jerk!” laughed Chesh. “They mean the same thing!”
“Oh,” the dragon mumbled, a bit chagrined, and released a burst of embarrassed smoke. “You mean like ‘famous’ and ‘infamous’? Some knight I scorched called me ‘infamous,’ and I thanked
him before I boiled him alive in his armor, but now I’m not so sure I did the right thing.”
“A truly infamous act!” Chesh agreed. “But that’s a bad example. You see, those words both mean ‘well-known,’ but if you’re famous you’re well known for good things, and if you’re infamous you’re well known for bad things.”
“Eh, so long as I’m well-known!” the dragon laughed. “And now I’m going to be well-known as the dragon who incinerated Sir
Chesh Snuggywhatevers! Snarl! Roar!”
Chesh drew a bead on the dragon’s left eye and smiled. “Here’s lookin’ at you, jerk.”
[Either there’s more to this plushie than meets the eye, or Fenosha Longbranch’s psyche has taken a beating since the Dominion invaded Arboria and drove the Aurin to Nexus.]