text: It takes a very special and talented person to handle a fire-crotched wildfire gingersnap, and quite frankly I don’t think you have what it takes.
  
  
  You name Ginger Lady Fair and marry her shortly after. Jon turns down your request to be your best man, saying something about a dragon he needs to kill in Irelandshire. You’re bummed, but you understand. A hero’s work is never done until the end of the story. Ginger is a freak in bed, and just as I warned, it takes all of your energy to feed her wicked sexual appetite.
  
  
  Life goes on and you undertake a series of adventures with your new friend The Rabid Fox. Sadly, as the years pass you and Jon grow further and further apart. Years go by without seeing or hearing from him at all.
  
  
  …
  
  
  It has been ten years since the fateful tournament, and you have a small brood of gingersnap children to go with your gingersnap wife. You doubt any of them have it in them to be heroes. There isn’t even a strawberry blonde one in the bunch.
  
  
  After several weeks of adventuring with The Rabid Fox, you wave farewell to him at the fork in the road and head to your respective castles. On the way, you find your lands burnt and salted. The villages are nothing but smoldering ruins and the peasants have completely vanished. Massive piles of dung litter the landscape. Urging your trusty steed, Hot Biscuit Slim, to a full gallop you arrive at your castle to find it lying in ruins. Oh, and there’s a dragon sitting on top of the pile of rubble. Jon is there too.
  
  
  You are starting to think Jon may be jealous about you marrying Ginger. He does have an unhealthy fixation for fire-crotched gingersnaps.
  
  
  “Where the hell is my family?” You draw your sword, waving it menacingly.
  
  
  “In my belly.” The dragon guffaws, releasing a blast of deadly dragon fire. “Thank you so much Sir Jon for raping the woman first. I love my food when it’s properly terrorized and ravaged.”
  
  
  “Jon! How could you?” You fall to your knees in sorrow. “You were my friend!”
  
  
  “Don’t listen to the dragon! She’s lying. I’ve been tracking her for weeks. She’s the mate of the dragon I killed in Irelandshire years ago. To avenge her lover, she’s trying to turn you against me by creating this incredibly unnecessary scenario to frame me for the rape, murder, and plunder of all you know and love.”
  
  
  “That seems excessive, Jon. Excuse me if I don’t buy that.”
  
  
  “It’s true! She wants to set us against each other so she can kill us both while we’re at one another’s throats.”
  
  
  “For what greater purpose?”
  
  
  “Elaborate revenge and kingdom domination.”
  
  
  “Hmmm, we are pretty badass. I doubt she could kill either of us one on one. And that does sound like something a dragon would do.”
  
  
  The dragon roars and flaps her massive wings. “I never lie about properly terrorized and ravaged food. Rape and betrayal are the perfect seasonings.”
  
  
  Well now, this is an unfortunate situation. Who is telling the truth?
  > You kill Jon and the dragon
  “You bastard! How could you rape my wife!?”
  
  
  “I’m not a bastard!”
  
  
  You and Jon attack each other, and just as Jon warned, the dragon fries you both with a blast of dragon fire. With the two of you dead the dragon goes on to… get slain by The Rabid Fox a few hours later.