Do What I Must Do

If I’ve told these people once, I’ve told them a thousand times:
let sleeping dragons lie, folks, for roused, they’re bad news.
Steal from a dragon, and you put yours and all our necks in a noose.
We know dragons breathe fire, and we know dragons fly.
What about this do they not see as a double-whammy?
There’s not much to ponder except an inevitable butt frying in the offing.
So to try to spare all of our behinds being barbecued, thanks to one moron’s greed,
I’m going to selflessly do battle with the dragon on behalf of my people.
If anyone stands a chance here, it’s I, the most skilled of warriors,
one who is willing to die trying to clip the beast’s wings and extinguish his flame.
Alas, how I wish there were a place where I could buy a magic wand.
In all honesty, I’m feeling my age after a hard fighting life,
and I could use a little magic to boost me in my corner.
But a good king defends his people no matter what,
so I’ll do my lordly duty and tackle this nightmare for all of them.
Trying to be optimistic, I’ll rate my chances at 51%,
so I’d caution any of them against betting the farm on me.
I tell you true, if I come back victorious,
they’d better sing my praises like never before.
And if I die they’d better sing my praises even louder,
since I’ll have transitioned to another realm
where it’ll be harder for me to hear their singing.
Repetition of the emphatic kind is employed by the teller here:
I’d like to remind everybody one more time: never, ever
steal from a dragon because there will be inevitable consequences.

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