CHOMP! CRUNCH! GULP!
Floating in high orbit above the central star of the Seventh Galaxy, Ao Ming—the three-million-mile-long Rank 9 Cosmic Flood Dragon—opened his golden jaws wide and swallowed the entire planet-sized skewer of cumin-spiced roasted star-mutton in three massive bites!
BURRRRP!
A cloud of fragrant golden dragon-fire and toasted cumin smoke puffed out of Ao Ming’s nostrils, warming three nearby moons by ten degrees.
“Ahhhh! Nothing beats Old Guo’s five-spice roasted lamb when your tail is cold!” Ao Ming wiggled his three-million-mile golden body happily, rubbing his horny snout against the side of Engine #1 like a giant puppy asking for head-scratches. “Young Master, you wouldn’t believe how miserable it was back when I was sealed under that dry mud well in the early desert days! Back then, I was so skinny I had to curl up like a dried shrimp just to fit inside the well shaft. Now I’m as long as a solar system—except whenever I stick my head into Galaxy #9 to boil water for the bathhouses, the tip of my tail is still sticking out in the -450°F void back in Galaxy #8!”
Right behind Ao Ming, the three hundred Rank 8 Star-Dragons rescued at the heart of the Milky Way Spiral Arm poked their heads out of the cargo train’s watering tanks and nodded vigorously in agreement.
