So it came as a surprise (and, frankly, an inconvenience) when, on Monday morning, there was a knock at Dragon’s door. “Who’s bothering me at this hour?” he grumbled, peering through the curtains.
He assumed it would be the hippies that had been protesting outside his house for the past 30 years, holding their pathetic little placards and complaining about ‘the environment’ without making the slightest bit of difference.
But this knock at the door seemed different: he could see that one of the humans trembling with fear on his doorstep was that lazy Alice, who worked in sales, but the other was a middle manager, and Dragon didn’t expect his middle managers to make his life difficult. The whole point of the Christmas Bonus he gave them was to keep them quiet and their heads down.
“Better humour them,” he thought, shrugging his shoulders and letting them in.
In the hallway, Alice nervously explained the reason for their visit. He found their demands confusing; something to do with butterflies, birds, tomatoes, and farts, so while he half-listened, he eyed up the names on the petition to see who he might fire. When it was over, he smiled and promised to do whatever he could before ushering them out.
Closing the door, Dragon returned to his sofa where he’d been idly munching on coal, smiling to himself about the part where they’d asked him to consider switching to a plant-based diet.
