Suddenly, a gargantuan scarlet dragon erupts from the manhole in an explosion of steam and debris. It stares you down with two glowing eyes filled with loathing and power.
However, you happen to have three eyes at the moment, and an industrial model foam thrower operated by simply lifting one of your thumbs (the non-opposable one on your tertiary left arm)--so the dragon skitches backward a few steps just to be safe.
“Keep your gold,” you say, “I don’t want it. I’m just here looking for Utopia.”
The dragon snorts a little puff of coppery-green flame and gives you a long thin grin.
“Yas, I know what you’re talking about, might be, maybe, Utopia. Right. But listen. This time it’s serious. I’ll be at the [[Duly_Dactyl?]] till 4 o’clock, local time. And I’ve activated the anterior counter-questal slime molds,” you add meaningfully, “so I sincerely hope nobody is late.”
Define external redirect: Duly Dactyl