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[toothycat]

Original here.

The Dragon opened his eyes, stretched and yawned. Twitching an ear, he turned his head to the source of the metallic clanging that had awoken him.
"What's that you're doing there?", he asked the armor-clad man engaged in furious activity near the base of his neck.
"Can't you see? I'm chopping off your head", the man repled between huffs, without breaking rhythm. Strike after strike came down onto tough scale.
"Any luck?, the Dragon asked with interest.
"Quit bothering me!", the man growled back angrily.
"All right, then", the Dragon replied amicably and tried to go back to sleep. The ringing of the blade made it hard.
"Listen, what do you need my head for?", the Dragon asked half an hour later.
"I need it about like a fish needs a bicycle", the man replied.
"Then why are you cutting it off?"
"It's the way of things."
"Oh... well, if it's the way of things, I guess there's no helping it. Looks like hard work."
"Yeah, quite tiring," the man admitted.
"You don't fancy a rest?"
The man held one gauntlet to his armoured brow and squinted at the sun.
"I'll take a break in an hour or so, about noon."
"That's good to hear", the Dragon nodded. "I'm getting pins and needles in my neck holding it in the same position all this time. And I need to relieve myself."
"Well, go if you like, but be quick."
The Dragon, flapping his wings, flew behind some bushes. A minute later he returned and spread himself on the rocks again.
"Carry on."
The man considered the chipped sword in his hand, threw it aside, pulled out a file from his rucksack and began to saw. The Dragon squirmed and giggled.
"Hey, cut it out, that tickles!"
"Sorry."
Replacing the file with the sword, the man went back to chopping.
"Better?"
"Yup", the Dragon squinted. "That's actually quite nice. I don't suppose I could get you to move left a bit?"
"Sure."
For a while, little sound was made other than loud huffing, the ringing of the blade and the Dragon's satisfied purring.
"Quit that!", the man finally snapped.
"What?"
"Quit purring. It's annoying."
"Why?", asked the Dragon, offended.
"It's unmelodic! Anyway, try to be more serious when someone's killing you."
The Dragon looked thoughtful.
"Someone's killing me?"
"Yeah."
"You?"
"Yeah."
"I don't believe you!" The Dragon yawned. "If you'd been killing me for this long I'd be dead ten times over already."
"So what do you think I'm doing?"
"Chopping at my neck."
"Well, then!"
"What?"
"If I chop your neck off, won't you die?"
"You won't chop my neck off. You can see yourself, it's not working."
"What if I use dynamite?", the man suggested.
"I don't recommend it." The Dragon shook his head. "I spit high-temperature plasma."
The man sighed tiredly and sat on a stone.
"So what should I do then? If that's the job I've got - chopping dragons?"
"So chop, then." The Dragon shrugged. "It's not like I'm stopping you. All work is to be respected. And here, look, you've got yours cut out for you!"
The Dragon stretched out on the stones and offered his armored tummy to the man.
"Listen, I don't suppose you could try to stab me in the heart?", he asked plaintively. "I'll try my best not to purr!"