When Kim and Clark went dragon-hunting, they never expected to actually find a dragon. They especially did not expect to find a dragon named Frank. They especially especially did not expect Frank to live in a duplex at the end of their street.
They didn't even find him while they were on their dragon hunt, although they had prepared for their hunt so carefully. They made sure to bring several different kinds of sandwiches (as they were not sure what kinds of sandwiches dragons prefer), some rope, and they'd even swiped a fire extinguisher, just in case they met a less-than-pleasant dragon.
As expected, however, they left their hunt empty-handed. They found their dragon when they were on their way home. And they didn't so much find him as he found them, wrestling on his front lawn.
They hadn't meant to wrestle but, being brother and sister, these things tend to happen. It doesn't matter how it happened, but let's just say the words "fartsniffer" and "buttgrabber" were thrown about.
Kim had just gotten the upper hand, as she often did, by virtue of being older, taller, and heavier. Clark was facedown on the ground, pouting into the dirt, and Kim was sitting gloriously atop his skinny back.
"Get...OFF," Clark said, shifting his weight from side to side and trying to dislodge his sister.
"Say it!" she shouted, and poked a wet finger in Clark's ear. He swatted her hand away and shook his head.
"Saaaaay it..." she warned, readying another finger for a Wet Willie.
"FINE! I'M A PRETTY PRETTY PRINCESS!" Clark shouted and that's when the house in front of them exploded in a great roar of noise.
"Holy crap," said Kim. "Did we do that?"
"No," said a voice buried in the remains of the house. "I did."
Kim and Clark looked at each other. Kim stood up and helped her brother to his feet. They brushed themselves off and walked toward the pile of house in front of them.
And that's when a dragon emerged from the rubble.