A short story for the Chuck Wendig Challenge http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2015/04/10/flash-fiction-challenge-time-again-to-write-an-opening-sentence/
I wrote this from the sentence created by Tori.
The stains from dragon vomit almost never came out, and being covered in it while standing in a pile of manure, Donovan should have known better than to think the day couldn’t get any worse.
“Good Lord!” Donovan yelled. “Can’t you at least brush your teeth?” He coughed; deep, lung-destroying coughs. “Dragon breath,” he muttered.
“Sorry about that, Don,” Cyanide rumbled. “Just woke up.”
Donovan had only been awake for five minutes, scratching himself and grimacing at the vomit Cy had caked him in, presumably while they were sleeping off the mead from last night. He had stumbled to his feet, straight into a pile of dragon shit, which was even now corroding the tough, thick soles of his riding boots.
“It never ends!” he said, rolling his eyes to heaven and sighing. “Well, come on then, Horse Face.”
“Don’t call me Horse Face,” bellowed Cy.
“Then stop looking like one.”
Cy rumbled deeply in her chest, and small licks of flame escaped her nostrils. Don noticed it, largely because when a dragon rumbles you can’t miss it unless you’re in a bunker, buried in peat moss, half a league away.
“Look, it’s not my fault! If you don’t like your face take it up with your parents!” said Don.
Cyanide’s eyes flew wide, their golden orbs flashing danger as more flame emanated from her.
“I came out of an egg! I don’t know who my parents are!” she roared.
“So, it’s as I’ve long suspected. You’re a bastard. And a mean one, too.” giggled Don.
At that, Cyanide bellowed and unleashed a massive column of fire, setting small weeds and haystacks alight.
“Oh, come on!” Don said as he rushed to put out the fires and save their cavern. “You’re not so tough. I could do that with a can of deodorant and a cigarette lighter!” Then he grinned at that. “And I wouldn’t have to step in shit or find the 500 pounds of food it takes every day for you to make it.”
“It wasn’t my fault!” roared Cy. “I told you tacos are too spicy for me!”
With that said, she took to flight, gloriously circling the cavern that was their home, and flying over his head before coming to land again. Donovan dropped to the ground, deeply asleep.
What he hadn’t yet learned, because she’d burned The Book of Dragon Care, was that when one flew over you, you’d fall asleep and forget the hour that had just passed.
She dropped a rather large and wet turd at his feet, vomited all over him, and settled down.
“I like this human. I think I’m going to keep him,” she said, as she flicked through the latest instalment of How To Annoy Your Human.