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And so it came to pass.
In no time at all, Luci-Melena was so much a part of the life of The Dragon that it seemed like she had been there always.

She rode her unicycle to work – often riding it right into the pub.
She wore a different wig to work every day – blonde, red-head, blue, short, long.
And an outfit to match. She was so good at this semi-disguise that some patrons didn’t realize she was the same person each night.
The Dragons is a theater, she said, “and I’m always onstage.”

Luci-Melena was the inspiration behind the celebration of Easter, which took place on Halloween Night – with a pub full of almost every kind of bunny imaginable and some never imagined before.
The only drawback was the Easter Egg hunt –
“Never again,” said Rado – I’m still finding stray eggs.”

Luci-Melena organized The Dragons Polo Team, and The Dragons Yacht Club.
Actually, they were one and the same – and all they had was an antique polo ball and one oar. And official T shirts, of course.
“I don’t care what you do with this polo and yacht stuff, but it has to be out in the street, not inside the pub,” proclaimed Rado.

Luci-Melena was the three-time winner of the broad jumping contest held to select the Miss Dragon’s Beauty Queen.
Uncle Petr was elected Permanent Beauty King by acclamation..
It was quickly clear that The Dragon would never be the same without Uncle Petr and his Assistant Dragon.
They were a volatile creative combination.

* * * * *

The Dragon’s Fire was the name given to a band that slowly formed in the pub.
It had its beginning when Luci-Melena played piano on an evening when business was slow, and Rado joined in with his accordion.
Fernando, a Spanish guitar player added himself to the mix one night. And he demonstrated his ability as a flamenco dancer, as well.|
Nils, a Dutch chemist who had played drums in high school, became a spontaneous one-man rhythm section, using knives and forks and spoons to keep time by playing on table tops, beer kegs, wooden boxes, and even the walls sometimes.

And, to everyone’s surprise, George Novak showed up with a clarinet to join in.
He had played in a polka band in his home town in Texas and knew all the tunes.

In fact, any patron who played an instrument was welcome to sit in with the band. Thus, from time to time, the band included a bass, a trumpet, and a saxophone.
Uncle Petr claimed the title of Drum Major, using his cane as a baton – and, when the mood was on him, he even danced free-style – slowly and gracefully.

Not all of these players were there at the same time, but every Monday night became music night at The Dragons.}
Not great music – not even all that good – but they were enthusiastic and inventive.
What kind of music? What was its genre?}
“Fusion,” said Uncle Petr. “The Mystical Music of The Dragons.

* * * * *

“It’s time for another extravaganza, Uncle Petr,” said Luci-Melena.

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about exactly that,” he replied.

“What do you have in mind?”

“How about a Christmas pageant – we’ve never done that.”

“That’s crazy – for one thing it’s May – and there’s no cavalry or cannons involved. And the actors were just standing around in a stable.”

Uncle Petr scoffed and waved his hand in dismal.
“Details, details – there can be cannons off in the distance, and . . .”

Luci-Melena grimaced.
“Don’t look at me like that, Uncle Petr. I know what you’re thinking and I will not play the Virgin Mary. For one thing, I don’t want to be a virgin. For another, I don’t like babies. And wandering wise men and shepherds give me the creeps.}
No way!”

“Well, you could be an Angel of the Lord, and I could be the Lord.}
And a lot of patrons would be willing to be the animals – sheep, cows, horses.”

“No. Lame idea. Not enough action. Think of something else.”

“How about doing Cleopatra, and The Battle of the Nile?”

“No good – that’s on a river in boats – no cannons and no horses.”

“How about the story of Pocahontas – that’s got Indians in it.
Or maybe Romeo and Juliet?”

“No, no, no, Uncle Petr. We need cannons and horses. And besides, all the women in those stories were weird. The Virgin Mary, Cleopatra, Pocahontas, Juliet – boring – I don’t want to be any one of those – and I want a leading part.”

“I’ve got it! I’ve got it! How about Joan of Arc at the Siege of Orleans?”

Luci-Melena applauded.
“Yes! Brilliant! Lots of cannons and horses. And Joan rode into battle in a suit of armor on a war horse, and she got to slice up a lot of men with her sword.
And . . . ta-ta-dah . . . won the battle. Yes, yes, yes! I’ll play Joan of Arc.
And you can play King Charles, VII, King of France.”

“Excellent. But don’t forget – Joan of Arc was burned at the stake in the end.”

“Not a problem, Uncle Petr. Not a problem. We’ll do that symbolically – Rado can barbecue a whole pig in the back patio.”

And that’s what they did – that’s what happened – Joan and the King and the cavalry and cannons and the roasted pig – all of it.

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