"I thought you all breathed fire," I said, looking up at the great wyrm. The beast, two stories tall with wings that could hide a house, scowled down at me.
"That's racist," it sputtered.
"Sorry! I didn't mean-"
"Oh, nobody ever means it."
"I, I just mean it wasn't my intent to insult you."
"Yet here we are."
The beast and I paused for a moment.
"Wait," I said, puzzled. "How's that racist?"
"Are you kidding? You just assumed all us dragons did a thing. Of course it's racist."
"I'm not some dragon scholar! How was I supposed to know?"
"You could have asked."
"How would I know to ask about that?"
"You could have phrased it differently."
"Ah," I said, pondering my options. "Well, before we go too much further, what else should I know about dragons?"
"There's lots to know!" it ejaculated enthusiastically. "There are a lot of dragons in this world and they're all a little different. Some fly, some swim. Some have metallic scales, some are feather and chitinous. Some put up with stupid questions, some eat idiots."
"Well, I hope you're the former," I said.
"I value using one's head, but I'm not going to eat you, traveler."
"Oh, thank goodness."
I pondered my next move. I figured I'd return to the start of the contention.
"So, what else do dragons breathe?"
"Lots!" it answered. "Fire, certainly, and acid and ice. Sometimes it's tied to appearance and scale type, but like in any Punnett square, a recessive gene might show up unexpectedly. I'm pretty dominant though."
"I bet! Does anyone else in your family breathe cum?"
"Oh, all the women in my family are stellar sperm spewers."
"Wait. You're a lady!?"
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