Read The New Kid at School for Free Online

stared up at the monster before him. He tried to remember what he had learned in his one-and-only slaying class. But Gorzil was no dummy dragon with a target painted under his chin. He was the real thing!
    With a quivering hand, Wiglaf brought Surekill out from behind his back.
    The dragon gazed at the rusty thing and chuckled.
    “Surekill,” Wiglaf said, “slay the dragon!”
    Surekill did not move.
    “Surekill!” Wiglaf tried again. “Do the dragon in!”
    Surekill made no thrust.
    Yellow flames began to flicker from Gorzil’s nostrils.
    “Surekill!” Wiglaf yelled. “HELP!”
    In the blink of an eye, the sword leaped out of Wiglaf’s hand. It glowed red hot as it soared up, up into the air. Gorzil stopped flaming. Wiglaf and Eric and the dragon all stared as Surekill rose higher and higher into the clouds. They waited for it to reappear. But the sword had vanished.
    At last, Gorzil fixed his gaze back on Wiglaf. “Too bad,” he chortled. “Now it is breakfast time!”
    Gorzil opened his terrible jaws. Any second, Wiglaf knew, lightning bolts would strike him!
    If only I had more time! he thought. Time enough to discover Gorzil’s secret weakness! But how? Wiglaf racked his brain. But he could think of nothing. Nothing!
    At last, Wiglaf opened his mouth, and over Gorzil’s thundering roar, he yelled the first thing that came to his mind: “Knock! Knock!”
    Instantly, the thunder stopped.
    “A joke!” the dragon cried. “There’s nothing Gorzil likes better than a good joke! Breakfast can wait. All right....Who’s there?”
    “Lettuce,” Wiglaf managed.
    “Lettuce?” Gorzil snorted a puff of smoke. “Lettuce? Gorzil can guess! Easy! Oh, foo. Lettuce who?”
    “Lettuce alone!” Wiglaf answered.
    “Oooooh,” Gorzil groaned. “That was a bad joke.”
    “Really bad,” Eric called from behind the rock.
    “Gorzil hates bad jokes,” the dragon added.
    In fact, Wiglaf thought that the dragon looked slightly ill.
    “Try again, son of the village,” Gorzil ordered. “Tell Gorzil another joke. But make it a good one!”
    “All right,” Wiglaf said. “Knock! Knock!”
    The dragon perked up. “Gorzil will get this one! Who’s there?”
    “Arthur!” cried Wiglaf.
    “Arthur? Hmm. Oh, yes! Oh, poo. Arthur who?”
    Wiglaf answered, “Arthur any dragons uglier than you?”
    “Aghh!” Gorzil cried. “That was even worse!”
    Wiglaf noticed that Gorzil’s bright orange eyes had faded. His scales were no longer a brilliant green. The dragon looked the way Wiglaf felt when he heard too many of Fergus’s knock-knocks: Sick.
    Suddenly Wiglaf had a hunch. Could it be? His heart began to race with excitement.
    “Knock! Knock!” Wiglaf said again.
    “Who’s there?” Gorzil mumbled.
    “Howard!” called Wiglaf.
    “How—Howard who?” Gorzil asked weakly.
    Wiglaf yelled, “Howard you like to hear another rotten joke?”
    “Another? Uggghh!” The dragon gasped for air. He clutched at his scaly chest with his claws.
    Quickly, Wiglaf struck again: “Knock! Knock!”
    “Who...there?” Gorzil’s head was drooping now.
    “Ivan!” Wiglaf shouted.
    “Iv...whooo...?” Gorzil’s legs buckled under him. He hit the ground.
    “Ivan to stay alive!” Wiglaf cried.
    That did it. Gorzil’s chest heaved. His tail lashed one final time and was still. His tongue flopped out the side of his mouth and lay in a puddle of yellow drool. Then, with a thunderous poof, Gorzil’s body exploded into a cloud of dragon dust.
    Eric hiked up his skirt and ran through the dust to Wiglaf’s side.
    “By Lancelot’s lance!” he exclaimed. “Gorzil is dead!”
    Then all at once, Wiglaf heard a wild roar. He turned to see hundreds of cheering villagers popping out from behind rocks and trees. Villagers who had come to watch them fight the dragon!
    Joyfully, the villagers began rushing toward them. Wiglaf brushed the dragon dust from his tunic. He readied himself to be lifted up onto their shoulders. To be