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"The Little Bug With A
Big Idea"
AN ORCHESTRAL TALE FOR CHILDREN
Story by Janai Pringle
Music by Mark MercuryThere once was a little bug and a dragon.
Now the dragon didn't start out polka-dotted,
And no one had won the tap-dancing contest.
But everyone was beginning to starve.
And bubble gum was in short supply.Oh my!
Which brings us to the little bug, an inventor, whose name was Philo. Philo couldn't sleep that night because he had a problem. The next day he was going to have to be a hero and he didn't know how. So he took his trusted bubble gum off the bedpost and chewed. Philo always did his best inventing when he was chewing gum and blowing bubbles.
The problem was a huge, purple dragon, burping fat bolts of fire and making a scary ruckus. Non-stop came the blood-curdling roar followed by that silly song he bellowed at the top of his lungs:
"FIRE SPIT, FIRE SPIT
Sparks burn your toes.
FIRE SPIT, FIRE SPIT
Smoke up your nose."
Except he sang off-key and was giving everyone a headache.
Then there was the rat-tat-tatting of those monstrous feet, as though he was tap-dancing. Each rat-tat pounded the ground, jarring every dish from the shelves.
The dragon had to go. He'd been blocking the mouth of the valley for weeks and the village was beginning to starve.
What they needed was a bright idea. Better--a hero.
First went Red Bear who had never lost a fight. But the dragon blew him away with a single, singeing sneeze.
Next went Fox Trot, known for his sly and cunning ways. But a fireball the size of the moon chased the fox, at a speedy trot, back to the village. How could Philo hope to succeed?
"It's up to you now," Philo said to himself as he put on his suit of armor--a pie pan for his chest, a thimble on each antenna. Then, in a whisper, "If I only knew what to do."
He didn't need a sword or a dragon trap. What he needed was a brainstorm. And for that he needed gum, lots and lots of gum.
He unwrapped the biggest piece he could find, and blew one last bubble for good luck until it went "POP!"--when suddenly he knew how he could beat the dragon.
Away he went out the door, through the smoke and heat, until he was toe-to-toe with the purple monster. Rat-tat-tat went the right foot. Rat-tat-tat went the left. Why, the dragon WAS wearing tap shoes!
Just then the dragon FO-FUM'd, wriggled and lunged and wailed, "I'll never get to the dance contest!" And stomping on a huge foot in disgust screamed, "Oh FIRE SPIT!"
Which is exactly what he did.
A flash of bright fire lanced from both of his nostrils. Philo danced a jig as his armor heated up, then made his way to the ledge overlooking the spot where the dragon stood.
Now Philo knew enough about dragons to see that this one was very young, indeed. No wings to speak of and only baby teeth, with two missing in the front. His plan was bound to work!
Philo stood where the dragon could clearly see him and began blowing bubbles.
Soon the dragon's voice rumbled, "What's that?"
"What's what?" replied Philo, as casually as possible.
"The little pink balloon in front of your face."
"A bubble. Want to make one?"
"Why, yessss!" said the dragon, and in his excitement, belched a huge cloud of smoke.
When it cleared, Philo showed him how. The dragon took a giant breath and blew the single, most spectacular bubble ever created. Mighty and round it grew until it filled the air like a smoking, pink moon. Smoking, you see, because the dragon was filling the huge, pink thing with his fiery breath.
Until finally....SPLAT!
The dragon stood there blinking, looking like a pink, polka-dotted mountain.
"Ohhh," the massive purple features slid into a pout, "it broke!"
"The fire spit is melting the gum. Try it again without the fire!"
Ah...the dragon was tickled pink!
Clever Philo, taking the fire out of the dragon.
Now they could talk.
His name was Singe, and he meant the town no ill will. "I was on my way to a tap-dancing contest when I got stuck between these two mountains."
"Why don't you simply back out the way you came?"
Singe shook his head vigorously and a few small drops of fire fell from the corners of his mouth.
"I can't see the tip of my tail."
"You can't back up, is that it?"
Singe nodded. "The last time I tried, I stepped on my father's nose. It was a very bad day."
"I think I can help, but I'll need to measure your head."
Which is exactly what Philo did. Then, reassuring the dragon, and giving him the last of the gum, Philo left.
It took hours of clever inventing.
Stitches and studs; glitter and glue.Singe was getting cranky by the time Philo returned with his weird contraption. A helmet made of leather straps with a rearview mirror on either side. Singe looked ridiculous, but it worked. Now he could see where he was aiming his huge bulk. Then, concentrating as hard as he could, Singe slowly, cautiously, backed out of the mouth of the valley.
"I'm free!" Singe cheered, and throwing his head back, puffed three perfect rings of smoke in celebration. "Thank you, Philo, thank you!" and tap-danced happily off in search of his contest.
The village celebrated for days. There were flags and flowers, marching bands and parades, all in honor of Philo.
And Singe? He won the contest, naturally, for he was the only dragon who could dance backwards. And showing the trophy he clenched in one, huge paw, made very certain not to clog the mouth of the valley, for the townsfolk were expecting a large shipment of bubble gum for their new hero, Philo.
"FIRE SPIT, FIRE SPIT
He saved the day.
FIRE SPIT, FIRE SPIT
Gum all the way."
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