The battle raged for hours. The heroic Pictish forces of Fortriu, summoned quickly after the dragon had made its first appearance, were having no luck in piercing through its heavily-scaled body, and hope was diminishing rapidly.
King Hendo surveiled the situation from his place upon his throne of gold. His loyal army, while brave and ferocious like no other, simply did not have the skill to do anything but anger the dragon. Wooden trebuchets loaded with boulders were turned into flaming death-pyres before they could be engaged successfully; swords were more effective, but only one or two swings, no matter how mighty, were all that could be accomplished before the sword-wielder was burnt to ashes. For now, skilled archers were attempting to plant arrows into the soft underbelly of the beast while the bloodied ground troops took rest, but even that was ineffective.
The King sighed. This might well prove to be his downfall. Advisors were recommending a retreat, but this dragon would go on to torment many kingdoms after the Picts were destroyed. Retreat was not an option. They would slay the dragon, or die a death worthy of many tales.
Suddenly, he had an idea. “Hey Dub, toss me that basketball. The one by the horse enclosure.”
Dub looked confused as he gazed at the orange orb. “Basketball? I know of no such term. You mean this thing?” Dub nudged the ball with his toe.
The King rolled his eyes. “Yes, that. By the King’s decree I order that you throw that ball over here right now.” Dub complied.
Casting off his ceremonial battle-armor, King Hendo was left in a cotton tunic and sturdy leather boots. He experimentally dribbled the ball between his legs a few times, then mimed taking some jumpshots. “Yes! I am ready. Dub, halt the archers. This will be the end.”
After the archers had ceased firing, Hendo picked up his ball. “Jordan be with me,” he muttered, kissing the ball, before dribbling towards where the dragon was resting. The dragon eyed Hendo warily as he approached, calmly dribbling with alternating hands. “What’s up big guy? You want some of this? Huh?” The speed of his ball-handling intensified, causing the beast to snort with anger. “Oh yeah, this is my house. My house! You’d better get out your notebook ’cause I’m taking you to school!”
The dragon, confused by the actions of this insignificant human, roared in fury, expelling a searing torrent of flame from its nostrils. Hendo deftly crossed over, avoiding the firestorm, then immediately began backing down the dragon. “You can’t stop this. I’m going to shoot it, and you can’t do anything about it.”
With those final words, King Hendo of Fortriu turned back around, faded away, and shot the ball in a high arc towards the dragon. His troops and minions were silent as they watched the orange sphere go up, then come back down towards the dragon. Even the dragon itself could only follow the ball’s trajectory with its yellow eyes, spellbound.
The ball made contact and appeared to bounce harmlessly off the dragon’s well-fortified body. But the actions of the dragon spoke of another outcome, for the dragon immediately began to thrash in agony, bellowing flame in its insanity. Several bystanders were torched, but King Hendo watched the dragon’s death-throes with cool calmness.
Soon the great lizard was dead. King Hendo grabbed his basketball, clambered upon the dragon’s smoldering body, and raised his arms, beckoning his subjects to listen. “My soldiers! I am no longer merely King Hendo of the Picts! I am also…HENDO, KING OF THE TURN-AROUND JUMPER!!!!!!”