As I’m atheist, I’ll need a different made up story to tell my kids when/if I have any. One that doesn’t involve religion, crosses, murder or resurrection, but one equally as unbelievable.

I think I’ll go with this…

Once upon a time, there was a little village in Switzerland, or Belgium, or somewhere else that makes good chocolate.

Up in the mountains was a dragons nest. For years and years the people lived in the village and the dragons lived in the mountains, and they didn’t disturb each other.

One day, a baby dragon got lost and ended up in the village. He came upon a chocolate shop. The smell of the chocolate made him all excited. He’d never smelt anything like it. He tasted a chocolate. It was delicious. He couldn’t stop himself. He ate another chocolate. Before he knew it he had scoffed all the chocolates. He was covered in sticky, sweet, melted chocolate. He was so full he couldn’t move.

In the meantime, the rest of the dragons had noticed he’d gone missing, and sent a flying search party to find him.

Eventually one of the dragons found the baby dragon, covered from head to toe in chocolate. The picked him up and flew him back to the nest in the mountains.

When they arrived, the other dragons gathered round to lick him clean. They couldn’t believe the flavour sensation they were experiencing. It made them happy and excited. The females liked it especially. Some even said it was better than sex (they were wrong). They were addicted. They needed more chocolate.

To begin with they managed to control their urges, but they couldn’t stop thinking about the chocolate.

Sometimes the lady dragons wanted it so much that they’d cry. The men dragons didn’t like their lady dragons being so upset. They decided to go back to the village under the cover of darkness, to get some chocolate and to satisfy their ladies and stop them being upset.

It was the beginning of the end. The more the dragons had, the more they wanted.

Before long the harmony between the dragons and the villagers was broken as the dragons went out night after night, tearing apart the chocolatiers for a fix of the sweet, delicious, cocoa goodness.

The villagers lived in fear of the choc-head dragons, who would turn up in gangs, wearing hoodies, and destroy the villager’s livelihoods.

This continued for many years.

As you know, ‘you are what you eat’.

Eventually the dragons evolved so they were made of pure chocolate. They’d eaten so much of it that they had literally turned into chocolate. Sometimes they would even eat each other.

They were so unhealthy, that most of the time, their eggs didn’t even have baby dragons in them. They were just hollow.

The villagers had lived in fear for decades, and they just didn’t know what to do. None of the villagers were courageous enough to try to fight the chocolate crazed dragons. Once a villager called Monsieur Nestle had tried to fight back, but he had just got torn apart with the dragon’s chocolate claws (they were made from Dime Bars).

One day a traveller came into the village. His name was Mr Cadbury. He was from England but his parents had given hom some money so he could go backpacking and ‘find himself’.

He had heard that the village made the best chocolate in the world and came from miles away, to get some for all his ‘girlfriends’ back in Surrey.

When he heard the villager’s plight, he vowed to find a solution to their problem. He didn’t really care, but thought it would get into the press, score him some kudos back home and steer people away from thinking he was a spoiled brat whose only interest was money and women.

Night after night, he and the villagers sat up planning their strategy to rid themselves of the choc-junkie dragons.

Eventually they had a plan.

Cadbury and a group of villagers had scoped out the dragon’s flight path, and set up a catapult in a cave beneath it. As darkness fell the first of the dragons ventured out on its nightly mission for chocolate.

The Cadbury Crew had balls of rags, soaked in petrol. They lit a fuse on one, and catapulted it at the airborne dragon (Cadbury’s country pursuits helped with this…but one of the crew had to shout ‘Pull’ whilst wearing a tweed jacket, to set the scene).

The fireball hit the flying dragon in his bell and melted him clean in half. The plan would work!

They took down four more dragons this way.

The rest of the dragons in the next hear the commotion and ventured to the mouth of their nest to see what was happening. They saw their comrades shot down, broken and melted, in the rocks below.

The were upset, agitated, angry, grief-stricken. They wanted to heap revenge upon the Cadbury Crew. They left the nest, flying furiously toward the group who had done this to their dragons.

Unfortunately they weren’t very clever. In their fury, they were breathing fire (they had long learned to control this, as they were made of chocolate).

The more furious they got, the higher the flames got…and their heads all melted off. Even dragons can’t stay alive with no head.

They all fell onto the rocks in a melting pool of chocolate.

The Cadbury Crew were jubilant.

They climbed up to the empty nest. There they found some of the dragon’s eggs. They opened one and realised it was empty. Just a hollow egg, with a chocolate shell. They wrapped them in tin foil and took them back to the village as trophies.

The villagers were eternally grateful to Mr Cadbury, and they all lived happily ever after.

This is how he became the Patron Saint of Chocolate, and we celebrate by eating hollow chocolate eggs on a Sunday in Spring.

Coincidentally, this is also the day some people celebrate the first recorded zombie uprising, but you’ll learn about that at school.

The End.

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