Experienced professional dragonslayers - one immediately thinks of Ricky Wurmtoter, former head of pest control at J.W. Wells, or the legendary Kurt Lundqvist, thanks ro whose efforts Seattle is now 77 per cent dragon-free - know the risks, the moves and the distressingly unfavorable chances of survival. Accordingly, they duck, weave, shuffle their feet, wait for an opening, feint, drop into an extended high guard, trip over something and get torched or eaten. Maurice, who had no idea what he was doing, neatly avoided all these pitfalls. He marched up to the dragon, yelled "Bastard!" at it at the top os hif voice, and swung wildly with the breadknife. The dragon, quite reasonably anticipating a transition from high fifth to low third coupled with a defensive back-foot traverse, reared up and lurched to its right, collided with Maurice's breadknife and neatly cut its own throat.
- Tom Holt, When It's a Jar, pp.37-38
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