And there he sat.
It was his way, his family’s way, hoarding and stealing. He was a dragon after all and that was what dragons did. “Greedy little buggers”, so all of the old folks said. “rather steal your watch than eat your baby.”
He didn’t want to be like that. It wasn’t like he could use his gold to buy a Bently. Couldn’t even fit into the damn thing, besides everytime he got pissed off in traffic he’d melt the bloody thing.
So there he sat.
Rich with nothing to buy. Perhaps a house. Could you imagine, a bright Red Dragon out mowing his lawn on a Saturday morning.
“Hello Fred.” He’d say to his neighbour.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Would scream his neighbour running for cover.
So there he sat. He reached over and took a nibble of goat he had grabbed earlier and let out a flaming fart melting the loot below him into a dragon butt shaped gold chair.
All of a sudden he was inspired. I will become a sculpter.