write a story with a fulfilling, satisfying, completely anticlimactic ending.

write a story with a fulfilling, satisfying, completely anticlimactic ending.

"Slay the dragon," the King called over his court. "Rid our kingdom of this wretched monstrosity and you, sir knight, will be rewarded with riches unfathomable. And," he gestured melodiously to the princess, "you will have my daughter's hand." I lifted my head slightly until my eyes met the princess. Her raven hair cascaded delicately over her slender shoulders, framing her fair visage. From under heavy eyelashes, her sparkling green eyes smouldered over the court. Her eyebrows arched mildly and her lips turned ever so slightly, completing her contented expression. Her hands clasped tightly on the embroidery in the lap of her flowing gold and red dress. Her posture was erect and her heels were glued together. I had my fill of her beauty and lowered my head once more. "Yes, my liege," I called from my humbled stance. I rose slowly, "I shall slay your beast." "Excellent," the King applauded. The princess's expression remained unchanged. "Rise, sir knight, and may the Gods watch over your endeavour with mercy and benevolence." The court erupted in applause as I found my feet. I looked around, holding my chin up, at the high seats around me. Nobles from across the kingdom, farmers, and squires cheered me on to victory. For a brief moment, I saw a hint of a smile cross the princess's face. My steed trotted valiantly through the dirt paths of the village. Servants and maids, upon hearing the news of my quest, rushed themselves to their windows and doorways to watch my departure. My armour clanged listlessly as I made my way through the wide streets. Men watched stoically as wenches swooned at my passing. I held a reserved expression, focussing on the mountain before me, within which lived the most vicious of monstrosities. The canopy of the thick wood brought a dimness which challenged that of twilight itself. The dense trees blocked my view in every way, but I pushed on, straight as an arrow, toward the mountain. I found a stream and followed it up the steep foothills. My horse stumbled slightly, reworking its footing, as its hooves carved a new trail in the virgin soil. As I continued up the mountain, my steed found it more difficult to keep his footing; his hooves slid backward in the highly sloped dirt. Eventually, I decided to tie up my trusted steed and continue on foot. I found my footing in various rocks and crevices, grabbing onto low hanging branches for support. I slipped on a slick rock and found myself splayed on the damp ground. With a loud groan, I wrestled myself out of my armour and pulled myself up. I would have to continue with only my leather armour and my wits. I patted the hilt of my sword and continued up the mountain. The air grew thick with heat and I choked on the growing smog. I was nearing the dragon's lair. My boots crunched over the decomposed rib cage of a fallen companion. I looked around to see more bodies strewn across the scorched earth. And then I saw it: the mouth of the dragon's lair. The stone was burnt black and I the stench of death overwhelmed me. I drew my sword, covering my mouth an nose with my other sleeve, and cautiously stepped into the cave. I saw the body of the beast outlined by the dim sunlight. With a mighty swing of my sword, I cleaved the monster's slumbering head from his neck. Using a bit of rope I'd found just outside the cave, I tied the beast's head up and dragged it back down to the village. The townspeople cheered upon my return and the King presented me with gold and his daughter's hand. We were married with haste and soon, the princess gave birth to a beautiful baby child that died soon after birth, because y'know: Middle Ages.

I'm running for president.

I'm running for president.

"what makes you happy?"

"what makes you happy?"