I was a curious and inquisitive child, always to be found amongst trouble and strife, led my parents a merry dance I did. It was clear from an early age I was fascinated by dragons, in fact anything that breathed fire; matches, gas ovens, blow torches, bonfires, fireworks, they were all like dragons in their own strange way.
It was at Ms Trumblestones nursery for slightly over enthusiastic toddlers my problems first came to light when whilst playing dragons I started my first fire. It could have been a lot worse but luckily the caretaker saw the smoke pouring from the nursery windows and alerted the fire brigade before it took hold. There I was, still in the cupboard, my little innocent face soot covered, and that cute little smile. Well how could anyone be angry with me?
Unfortunately my first encounter with matches didn't spell the end, simply the beginning........
As days went by, the compulsion grew stronger and the urge to see dragons overcame me once more. On the upside, this time I was at home, though unfortunately this only afforded the luxury of the perfect dark and dingy hiding place in which to summon my most favourite creatures. Being a little single minded when it came to dragons, I failed to think about what effect my surroundings might have and before I knew what had happened I was in the midst of yet another inferno. Now I really should have realised the old newspaper store in the coal shed wasn't the wisest place to practice wizardry.
This time though, I was a little quicker off the mark and I ran to the nearby greenhouse where watering cans and abundant quantities of water were to be found. Dousing the flames quickly restored the calm and tranquillity of the garden so I snuck upstairs and retired to my room before I was found out, just a little blackened around the gills.
Unfortunately I hadn't quite managed to extinguish the flames so as I sat in my room feeling pleased with myself for such a brave and fearless feat, down in the coal shed the fire was raging once more. Fortunately my parents had smelt the smoke and had alerted the fire brigade. The fire was quickly brought under control but difficult questions were beginning to be asked. The spontaneous combustion theory just didn't seem to be cutting it anymore and people were searching for alternative explanations!
The straw that broke the camels back was the day I made a dragon from papier-mâché. Unbeknown to Grandma, who was always keen to provide encouragement and thus also the ignition source, my new creation was constructed around a can of cigarette lighter fuel with the spout conveniently positioned at the point of the dragon's mouth. Well, boy could that dragon breath fire, and by the time he had finished, so could Grandma, her wig, her dress and the dining room curtains.
Again it was the fire brigade who saved the day but this time there was no escape for me, I was caught well and truly red handed and a full confession of my past misdemeanours ensued.
Many years of intensive psychoanalysis, therapy and drug treatment were required to put me back on the straight and narrow but I now lead a relatively normal life. By the terms of my probation I am only allowed to own dragons of the non fire breathing variety which at first meant only Genesis Dragons as they were said to have a calming effect on my condition. As years passed though things improved, and my rehabilitation progressed, I slowly branched out into Enchantica and of course finally Dragonsite.
Obviously my favourite pieces are still those that depict fire like Enchantica's Terragor, Orolan 3rd Edition Wizard complete with his magnificent ring of Dragon fire and of course Dragonsites Anger, but there are also many other fantastic pieces which would take forever to list.
Shortly you will be able to see my entire collection in full glory however, I can't currently get access to all of them as they have been confiscated and are being used as evidence in a high court case brought by the criminal injuries compensation board who are still refusing to pay out for Grandma's injuries.