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Alistair the wizard was having a very bad day. He’d woken up on the wrong side of his enchanted bed, his potion cabinet had inexplicably arranged itself by color instead of alphabet, and worst of all, his grumpy pet dragon, Smolder, refused to breathe fire on the morning oatmeal to give it that perfectly toasted crust. Alistair decided to cheer them both up by attempting a "Sparkling Dragon Rejuvenation" spell he'd found in an old, dusty book. He waved his wand, chanted the words, and a soft, pink light enveloped Smolder.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a sound like a wet sneeze, Smolder collapsed into a shimmering, goo-like puddle on the floor. Alistair stared. The puddle rippled. Two small, googly eyes popped up from the surface.

"I say," said a voice that sounded remarkably like Smolder’s, only squishier. "This is a bit… liquidy, isn't it? My scales feel wonderfully moisturized, though. So there’s that."

Alistair blinked. "Smolder? Is that you?"

"Of course it's me! Who else would be a talkative puddle of dragon-goo in your parlor?" The puddle-Smolder wobbled over to a leg of the armchair. "Fascinating. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be a slow-moving flood. Oh, look! I’m a lake now!" The puddle spread out, a tiny, gooey smile visible on its surface.

Alistair panicked. He flipped through the book. There was no reversal spell listed. The goo-puddle, meanwhile, was having the time of its life. It oozed under the door to the kitchen and promptly engulfed a spilled drop of milk, growing slightly larger and whiter.

"Alistair! The milk tastes delicious! I have a sudden urge to be a pancake! Do you think you could pour me onto a hot griddle?"

"Absolutely not! You're a dragon, not breakfast!" Alistair insisted, scooping up his gooey pet with a large dustpan. The puddle wiggled happily. He carried it to the garden, hoping some fresh air would help. Puddle-Smolder dripped onto a flowerbed and absorbed a patch of mud. "Oh, now I’m a mud pie! How marvelous!"

Alistair sighed, realizing he wasn't going to get his dragon back to normal anytime soon. He decided to embrace the gooey chaos. For the rest of the day, Alistair and Puddle-Smolder made wobbly journeys around the house and yard. The puddle happily absorbed stray leaves, a crumb of toast, and even a discarded button. By dinnertime, Smolder was a shimmering, multi-colored goo-puddle, and Alistair, though his house was a little messier, had to admit that his friend was in the best mood he'd been in all year.