“You can’t have a fort without armed dragons.”

“Nope,” he agreed solemnly, “What’s a dragon without lasers, right?”

“And a teleportation beam.”

“Dragons have wings.”

“Yes, but she can use it to teleport people away.”

“She can also use her wings to blow people away.”

“Oh, right,” she wrinkled her nose, “Teleportation beams are neater.”

“True, we don’t want to cause unnecessary to the surrounding villages.”

“The collateral and insurance will sink our treasury.”

“Not to mention the lawyers.”

“Lawyers,” she shuddered, “Didn’t we agree to ship them off to Switzerland?”

“The bankers had Issues.”

“Oh, yeah.” A pause. “What if we hire them to take out the elves?”

A frown. “Elves?”

“No, not the pretty Tolkien elves; I mean the ones with sharp teeth and green spit and bulging eyes and a hunger for twelve-year-olds and periwinkle tricycles.”

“Oh! Oh yes, that will do nicely.”

“Okay, you handle the Union and I’ll debrief the dragon.”

“Okay.”

“Alison,” Calvin finally looked up from his magazine, hint of a smile on his face. “Don’t get too dirty. Dinner’s in an hour.”

“Dinner,” she scoffed, “The Union would have a fit if we had to impose dinner at 7 o’clock. The proletariat has better things to take care of!”

“You’re not part of the Union.”

“Card carrying member! Just like Hobbes!” Alison cried, waving a cardboard-and-crayon card that misspelt ‘Union’ as ‘Unoin’. He rolled his eyes in response and flipped a page.

“Don’t pull out Mr. Drake’s tulips this time.”

“Only if they stop insulting the proletariat.”

As she bounded out the door, Calvin saw Hobbes wink at him. He smiled.