---

The screwdriver slid in, but then halted. Crystal twisted and twisted, but nothing gripped on the inside. She raised her eyebrows at Dave.

“Well, that there was a wasted exercise,” she said. “I thought you was some kind of genius, but I see now, you’re about as smart as a box of startled ferrets loose in a clarinet factory.”

Dave shrugged and was about to apologize when a noise gurgled. They turned to Rammil.

“Hey, hey, whoa,” he said, putting his hands up. “That wasn’t me ok. I had soup for lunch.”

The noise came again.

“NOT ME!” yelled Ziggy from inside the car bonnet. “But!”

The bonnet burst open again, and Ziggy walked out wearing tropical shorts, flippers, and oversized goggles.

“Don’t you guys love swimming in the summer?” he asked.

“What are you talking about?” Crystal asked.

A larger gurgle leaked out of the shed, followed by a hissing noise and a cork popping.

“Oh now,” Crystal said, the color draining from her face.

What’s going on?” Dave shouted as the noise from the shed was getting louder.

“One of the strawberries in the jam must have clogged the system,” Crystal yelled. “That, or the seeds have jammed the outlet! Either way, it sounds like the pressure build up as gone beyond the recommended, configured, allocated amount.”

“What does that mean!” Rammi said, plugging his ears with his fingers.

“IT MEANS TAKE COVER!!”

They all dove under the tractor, while Ziggy walked a few feet from the shed. He bent his knees and tucked his elbows in.

“This is going to be a goodie!” he said, just as the ground burst below him. There was an “OOOWWWEEEEeeeee” as Ziggy ejected into the sky, as pink, jammy water erupted below him like a farting geyser.

Blobs of jam water splashed everywhere, as small volcanic eruptions went off all over the field.

“We’ll be safe under here!” Cystal shouted. “We just have to wait for the pressure to calm its tits.”

The noise of exploding pipes with jam started to subside when there was an even bigger roar. Dave and Rammi turned to Crystal, who had gone a fair white color.

“What’s that?” Rammi shouted.

“That would be the jam dragon,” she replied.

“The what?

“It’s a dragon. We call him Phil. He lives up yonder. He’s partial to jam. The previous owners made jam, and then I came and turned this into wheat fields, and he leaves me a lone, because he doesn’t like wheat.”

“What happened to the previous owners?” Dave asked.

“Phil ate them.”

There was a huge thud, and they looked up. From under the tractor, they could see the large talons and feet of the dragon. It was on its hind legs, giving another bellowing roar as it seemed to be relishing the jam water shower it found itself in.

“But if it likes jam, surely it won’t eat us?” Rammi said.

“Well, no,” whispered Crystal. “Unless we smell like jam…”

There was a huge crunching noise as the dragon hoisted the tractor that was above them up and flew it across the field. The last thing Dave saw was its open mouth coming down at great force.

The next day, there was a huge queue outside Rammi’s shop, as people were upset that their favourite chef didn’t turn up for work. But by noon they were all dead anyway, from the doomsday, so it didn’t really matter.

---

Awww… What a sweet ending. Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood. Or ‘spread’ the love… because it’s jam and you spread it? No? Well, don’t get cross at me. I’m not the one who got that limerick wrong. You should try again. Great thing about being the reader is that you can go back in time… in time… in time… woooo… hoooo…. That’s the flashback music.